Recently my poetry class has been discussing the oxymorons within ourselves. Between that and the push from people to get my thoughts out into this world wide craziness, I can't stop selfishly pondering that with all the oxymorons that I harness how the hell the hodgepodge of myself was created.
I combine attributes that next to each other in a line at the bank give each other dirty looks and silent giggles. How did it come to be that I am what I am. Yearning to learn how to knit and know what it's like to free dive with a Great White shark. Rock every wii sport, but could never master a real one. Can handle intense pain, but every time I get my haircut and they brush my hair a part of me wants to cry. I try to eat organic food and care about the environment, but i smoke, drink, fuck anyone and forget to recycle a lot. Feel more uncomfortable watching a love story than a porn. Am a completely boring person, but if you read my mind you'd think I was completely insane. The list could go on...
But everyone has oxymorons in them. Some more than others. I like to think I'm a good mix of crazy boring. None of these are too extreme, but the path to self analyzing starts with wishing they were and realizing they're not at all.
