Me, me, me ... and I

I walk around this enclosure I call Home and all I can think of is myself; my missing rainbow, my directionless career, my third-party vendor status, my lack of understanding of all things supposedly important, my inability to be understood by others rather those I call family. Surprisingly or rather not, I am obsessed with myself.

I wonder how selfish I am.

I wonder if this is normal. I wonder if I even care to put it up on a public post that can be viewed by people I may or not care about, as I lay bare my insides.

The realist in me.. however small, wants to put his head down and get 'responsible' in life, for once;however, mundane that may be. And at the same time, the idealist in me wants to continue this life of meandering as I explore people, places and experiences.

Who do I listen to?
the dying idealist or the strengthening adult..

Do I have a choice?
Each one provides me with something. Each one takes away something that I am.

What do I want; What do I not need.

How selfish is love?
If I love the person and want her to be with me, will I love her enough to let her go her way when she has to? I like to think I would, is that love or is it just me consoling myself.

How selfish are emotions?
Every one of them revolves around me and me alone.

Some say, 'selfish' is being obsessed with oneself irrespective of others.

I wonder how selfish I am and if i give two hoots whatever the answer may be.

Note: This is an old post/thought that failed to make it to the blog, for reasons unknown. I have moved on from this state though and I now wander with a smile as goofy as one on morphine...