It’s a messy little pastiche of thoughts—I’ll separate the elements to try and come to some compromise on coherence.
I feel that way like, 97 percent of the time.
It’s unreal how often I find a natural tilt toward someone frame of mind, someone’s opinions or someone’s world view. You’d argue that well, 'of course you do'. Doesn’t everyone agree with someone? What’s so unusual about having an opinion that syncs up with someone else’s?
There is the theory that there is no such thing as an original thought—and this surprised gasp of yours flows seamlessly into this theory—if someone has an opinion, how unlikely is it that you’ll have it as well.
That’s the thing, though. I agree, and I don’t. That’s a quintessential example of my dual-view of the world. I agree with everyone—and disagree with them in equal parts.
There are certain things I can’t counter myself on—the things I mentioned at the start. When something about me is a Definitive Fact. I don’t like whole tomatoes, I just don’t. Non-negotiable. I’ll never like them, so I’ll never be able to nod in compliance with someone who could make love to a chunky bruschetta.
But the other things—the ones that aren’t set in stone but, perhaps, fast-drying clay, are more up for debate. When I hear somebody talk about how they can’t live without a workout, I feel all their feels. But at the same time, I feel a hearty kinship with someone who prefers fries to free-weights, and I think to myself, 'I’m so much like her!' I love working out, and I look down on it simultaneously.
This strange discord extends to multiple things. In my head, I’m just as much an insouciant flower child as I am a hardwired corporate bitch. I’m just as big on going out as I am on staying in. I’m as much for living out your dreams as I am for being staid, stable and paycheck-centric.
It becomes hard to pronounce my loyalties to a certain school of thought, because the idea of choosing that archway means closing every other door. I can’t be competitive and collaborative. I can’t be forgiving and vengeful. I can’t be body confident and wildly insecure about it at the same time…now, can I?
It’s extremely stymieing to have binary opinions about everything, but damnit, I do. I want to be all the things. I am the judge and the judged in every scenario. I hate Rom-Coms (so formulaic) but I love Rom-Coms (so comforting). I love the idea of living in a small town, but I loathe the idea of giving up the Big City Life. I think I'm a Jessica Pearson and a Liz Lemon. I’m pro animal rights, but also pro bacon.
I don’t know if anyone identifies with it at all—it is, after all, a terribly skewered thought. But I felt like I just had to write about it.
And at the same time, I really wish I hadn’t.