I've had plans that I've consciously made, after recognizing the need to go somewhere, and these plans can become important to me, but never a spontaneous desire, certainly nothing approaching a dream.
I've heard it said that we find ourselves in others and I suppose there's some truth to that. I've also heard it said that most people consider themselves better than average and this is quite self-apparently true. I was recently thinking that I consider myself better than average just like most people, but then I realized that I am completely indifferent to myself. I have no opinion of myself and never had one. I have never compared myself to others. It's obvious enough that I am the same creature as the people around me, but this has never meant anything.
I have never been anything but baffled when my mother or, worse, some long ago friend inquires about my welfare. I cannot conceive how I could have ever possibly affected the thoughts and feelings of others. What terrible thing have I done to deserve the punishment of influencing somebody else? What have I done to deserve being noticed?
Dear God but I hate being noticed. Nothing is more intolerable than the sight of another pair of eyes on me, smiling.
I have no idea of what would make me happy. I have never given any sincere thought to what would make me happy. There is no desire or expectation of happiness. All I have is a burden, a realization that I am sharp-minded and I have some moral obligation to enrich other lives. This, of course, would require being noticed and being known, which I could never live with. But that will take care of itself eventually.
Dé Sathairn, Márta 07, 2009
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