Me, Myself and I.

The three worst friends in the history of friendships.

I don't know why I do this to myself. I don't know why I have this incessant need to think. Right about now, most of you will be closing your browser, blocking me on MSN and deleting my contact details from your phone before any of this gibberish leaves a mark in your head.

But it's too late. It's always too late. You have already met one of the most self-destructive personalities you've ever known and you seem to like me. And you read this blog. Because you think I'm a better person. Better than you. Better than I think I am. Better than what I am supposed to be.

But everything in this world is going to be a lie until the moment your brain dies. By which time the truth doesn't matter anymore.

Next post : Figure out why I am starting to blog like LXJ.

Anyway. Back to my unending quest of finding out why we do what we do.

The ability to think is a gift. You figure out things before they happen, you understand why things happen and you proceed in life knowing you have made some contribution to society.

And it is as much a gift as it is a curse. One big fat curse. Layed upon our shoulders as the biggest burden and ultimately the weapon of the downfall, of humanity. And what about those who have the permanent urge to think? Cursed from the moment they start. Because we all know we will never figure out the mechanics of our universe.

But they don't know this. So they think. They think so much that their brain wears out more and more each time they try, leaving a machine tired, broken and useless at the end of the line. Like a pill for a junkie, and alcohol for a drunk, thinking is their evening fix.

Their fatal addiction.

And this evening's thought brings me to something that is going to land me in alot of trouble. But I live dangerously - oh so dangerously - that I bring it up on this VERY public blog.

It's that friendship curse again. Where that wheel of fortune has spun itself to an indication of bad times ahead. The one which dictates that everyone you thought you cared about, changes your mind about them. The one that states that every plan you had made with them, has to be scrapped.

Specifically, I'm talking about that feared plateau in the friendship. Nothing excites you, and nothing depresses you about them. They behave terribly - and you understand. They arrange some special meeting with you - and it bores the life out of you. So much so, you'd rather be by yourself. You'd rather entertain yourself to a night alone. A night of thought.

A night of me, myself and I.

But you can't because they're your friends. They will be there when you need them. And they will be there when you want their help.

And that's just it. No excitement, no adventure, no rocky road of emotions. Everything has come to a perfect standstill, and there you are wading in a pool of static, desperately looking for a waterfall to get high on adrenalin.

But you wish for something different with them. You wish for a better response, a brighter view of the day, a renewed vigour for something exciting. And basically, something unpredictable. Someone who has no plans for the day, but ends up visiting all four corners of the earth by bedtime. Someone who loves the same things you do, and loves to do them with you. Someone who has the same respect for the same people and things. Someone who matches your intellect and understands every qualm, every thought, every ounce of gibberish that may pop out of your head. Someone who doesn't criticise, but wants you the way you are. Someone who knows just how bored you can get, and makes sure that you forget what boredom feels like.

Someone who is just like you.

And that person is your soulmate.

So what is a friend then? He's not your family, and not your soulmate. He doesn't give you the love your family gives, and he doesn't complete you the way your soulmate does. And he doesn't give you a no-fight-guaranteed relationship.

But I thought he was all that. I wanted him to be. So here I am, meeting as many new people as I can so I can join all of their heads together to form the perfect person.

It's frustrating. When people tell you not to try and change your friends and to accept them for who they are. To not pick out their faults and love them as a whole person. To not make a fuss for the small problems they create for you. To embrace the person as they should embrace you.

BUT WHY CAN'T I?

I'm a human being, and I'm not afraid to tell you that I want what I want. I want my friend to be perfect. I want my friend to understand me. I want my friend to respect me. I want my friend to be unpredictable. I want my friend to spare me the boredom. I want my friend to not spend time with me to talk about someone else. I want my friend with a bit of brain. I want my friend to care about me when I'm upset.

I want the perfect person.

But there is no perfect world. No perfect life. No perfect day. And no perfect person.

And I'm running around chasing a wild goose.

Cheers.