Sanity: A Disambiguation

"Our life is frittered away by detail. An honest man has hardly need to
count more than his ten fingers, or in extreme cases he may add his ten toes,
and lump the rest. Simplicity, simplicity, simplicity! I say, let your affairs
be as two or three, and not a hundred or a thousand; instead of a million count
half a dozen, and keep your accounts on your thumb-nail. In the midst of this
chopping sea of civilized life, such are the clouds and storms and quicksands
and thousand-and-one items to be allowed for, that a man has to live, if he
would not founder and go to the bottom and not make his port at all, by dead
reckoning, and he must be a great calculator indeed who succeeds. Simplify,
simplify. Instead of three meals a day, if it be necessary eat but one; instead
of a hundred dishes, five; and reduce other things in proportion."

The intro to this was written by Henry David Thoreau in his book “Walden”. I do not entirely know why I want to start off with that, other than the fact I am trying to separate the small paragraphs I wrote about the dancer, the writer, the musician, and the student. Here I suppose I will write more on each character as an individual, rather than lump together their bios into one incomplete mess. I must keep my accounts on my thumbnail here for my sanity. By the end of this, some of their identities may be revealed but it is not like I didn’t plan for them to be discovered at some point in time or another. I know that there is no way to keep it a secret forever. My readers are too smart. And they know me too well.

If you have not read my previous post “I’m Going Crazy” then you should go back and read it first.


The Dancer

Interspersed throughout the semester, there were times when I would bump into the dancer in the halls or on the street. Since we both have a complex about speaking to people we do not know that well, it was awkward. It was not awkward in a bad way. Neither of us had any clue what to say to the other person. Sometimes it is still that way...awkward.

In situations like that, both persons have a thought process which is, for the most part, unexplainable. It is hard when two people, whose rungs on the social ladder have never collided, try to converse. Neither of them have any real information to give the other that is really worth wasting breath for. I know I have the most trouble finding something to say to her. I have the will to talk to her all day, but I never have the words to say. Maybe the weather, but it changes daily and there is really only so much one can say about it. It is either good or bad. Maybe sports, but I do not follow sports very much and it does not seem like she is the tailgating type either. I am not much for politics. School seems to be the popular subject. We are both in it at least. I should take up a more active role in the campus society, maybe dance lessons (that is laughable), or maybe writing this will be enough to jar my own subconscious into talking to her without a prompt more often.

Being as I do not talk with her too much, it is obvious that I cannot know too much about her. I feel the need to fill in some space here by making a confession. I confess that I have a huge inferiority complex when I am around someone who I know beyond a shadow of a doubt is smarter. The dancer is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, smarter than I am. This has something to do with our lack of conversation. I am certain. Because I do not know anymore to insert here that will explain her and still hide her name, I will have to end this soon.

One day I will be someplace nice and I will see her face in an advertisement. It won’t be some sleazy sideshow. It will be a big production. I’d say exactly what kind of production, but that would ruin her anonymity a little too much. All that needs to be known is that I will see her face in the ad and her name in print. I will go to see the show and be amazed by it. I will come up to her after the show and certainly will have no solid conversational grounds to stand on, but I will come up with some petty excuse for a topic, something no one thinks to talk about like the theatres eating or her advertisement perhaps, and I will push and shove that meaningless conversation until she absolutely has to go.