What’s in a name?
The word curious implies both a desire to “know” and “strangeness”. I am the type of person who appreciates the absurd, whose sense of magic is increased with the acquisition of facts. I favor those subjects which are open and vulnerable to interpretation. Those subjects which lend themselves to questing and personal exploration. I believe that beauty lies in the distinctions and imperfections, those qualities which elevate and sometimes exclude. I like or perhaps I relate better to individuals who are both peculiar and forthright. Anyone who knows me, knows that I can be incredibly dense in social situations. I am not able to decipher the “game” much less participate in it and it is because of this that I attract more genuine people both on and offline.
One of my loftier dreams is to be the proprietress of a philosophical community. A garden if you will where minds and hearts come together to discuss life, meaning, values, love, dreams, ideologies etc. A place of nonjudgment where people visit for a friendly debate, a conversation, or simply to bend the ear of an attentive listener. When I was a child I used to visit my neighbors (most of whom were elderly and previously unknown) and listen to them talk for hours about their lives. As a child I was welcomed easily into people’s homes. As an adult I imagine I would be received a little differently, perhaps a little more fearfully. As a teenager I devoured the secrets and fantasies of friends. When possible I even brought those fantasies to life.
If anything I have always been overly cautious, without expressed consent, I keep everything to myself. Once given I will not share a secret. As an adult these secrets come from strangers and from online friends and acquaintances. Through role-playing I have discovered some particularly interesting aspects of human nature. Flowers is just a reference to the individuals in my “community”.
“Portrait of a Shrinking Violet”
As this blog functions as my personal journal it provides an intimate look into the psyche of a recluse. Aside from incidental encounters with strangers and interactions within my own family I do not have much in the way of an actual social life. Even my virtual social life is low key. Most of my interactions take place on Mindlovemisery in the comments section. No need for sympathy, at the moment this arrangement suits me. Could be that I am experiencing some type of existential crisis but whatever the case I am content with the writing itself.