Prologue: Me, Myself, & I

�Life is far too important a thing ever to talk seriously about.� -Oscar Wilde

 

     The one question we all ask ourselves at one point: why are we here?  Whether you're referring to why you yourself are here, or why we collectively as a race of people are here, doesn't matter.  Am I here to make a difference?  Am I here to just be another person walking the streets?  Another face in the crowd, an extra is someone else's life, the person who has no inner monologues to the people who matter? 

      Well that really has to do with how you think.  Do you think that maybe you could be the person that set off some chain of events that lead to the cure for cancer, or the terrorist bombing in some hotel? 

      It's possible that one day you spill hot coffee on some random person in a Starbucks.  You apologize and pay for their dry cleaning, but they're still pissed off.  That guy, let's say his name is Ted; now, Ted's still pissed off at you and doesn't realize he cuts some woman off in traffic, let's call her Bee.  And because Ted cuts off Bee, because you spilled coffee on him, she is now angry and she doesn't make her husband breakfast the next morning.  So Bee's husband is now mad.  I have just named three interconnected incidents because you made a slight mistake.  According to this logic it's entirely possible, if I kept going on and on with this list, at one point I would end up in the Middle East where some guy gets so pissed off he decides to bomb a hotel, killing hundreds of people.  And guess what, that all started with "you". 
      Regardless of this wild tangent, we have all questioned our lives.  I don't particularly like my life.  Don't get me wrong I have a great home life, do well in school, have great friends.  I just don't find my life interesting.  I’ve never contemplated suicide, I’m not crazy, unlike 50% percent of people my age have.  Why?  I've asked myself that too. And I realized the answer: I find other people's lives much more interesting.  I'm too amused watching other people's lives to kill myself.  Which is a little strange if you think about it, the fact that my life relies on if there are people in the world who amuse me.  I guess that’s good though, because I’ll never kill myself.  
      Even though I'm not interested in my own life, other people might be.  I really don't reveal much about myself to other people at the drop of a hat.  I might think for days about a decision to tell someone something about myself.  If someone asks me, however, I'll tell him, or her, the complete and honest truth; as much as I know, anyway.  So, to people who want to know something about me, just ask. 

      I had always believed that my life was trite and uninteresting; a complete bore to someone with a better social status than my own.  However after December 22 that began to change.