Saturday, June 2, 2012
The beats inside
Last night, Patrick, Cha, and I went out drinking together. There was a point when we all had finally gotten kind of drunk, and Patrick decided he wanted to go home. I chased after him to get him to stay, but we ended up having a sort of precious bonding moment together from the alcohol-induced truths we spouted.
I wanted to preserve the moment, so I drafted it up in a scene, but as I wrote out the dialogue, I realized how selfish I was in the moment. Everything I was saying somehow circled back to myself when it really was not about me at all. I was just writing straight from the heart, whatever I would instinctively say in response to whatever he said, and I can't believe how revealing it all was to me. I never noticed it before, but having it all out on paper made it so obvious.
When I think about it though, I am a selfish person, but I don't really deliberately accept it because it's a socially frowned-upon trait. But when I'm bored, and there's no conversation flowing between me and someone else, I'll just talk about myself because I can't think of anything else that I can talk so easily about. I do it because I think eventually the other person will open up about themselves, but I realize he or she doesn't because I don't foster the exchange. I just keep talking. I don't ask the other person to relate in regards to him or herself, so he or she probably just sits and nods.
Patrick says all I do is complain, but I tell him it's because I'm just trying to make conversation, and it's easiest just to find fault with things, but what kind of person does that make me?
If I keep this up, soon, my words will just mean nothing to people.