So, last night i went on a date... A DateTM. A tall, handsome Italian man named Alessandro picked me up in his fancy silver Fiat and took me up to a cafe in Fiesole and then over to the Piazzale Michelangelo to go make out in some nearby park. I had met him the day before when I had taken a walk up to the Piazzale... relaxing and taking in the view, he approached me and said 'hi', and for some strange reason i actually engaged in the conversation rather than ignoring him or walking away (as is my usual modus operandi). we chatted for a bit and he asked me out. after debating why the hell i would really want to, i decided what the heck. so then i had this date... we had pleasant conversation and talked about things we had in common. he was charming and polite. he is a very tall (yum) and very handsome young man who has a good family and a good job and a good life. and we made out and it was nice. but why did i feel so bored, on the inside? why did i totally blow him off this afternoon when he was supposed to take me out to the Chianti countryside for wine-tasting and dinner? why do i feel like i couldn't care less? he is such a nice fellow and i hate to hurt his feelings, but i just didn't see the point in any of it. and this makes me feel kinda wierd. the same kind of wierd in how i can be surrounded by other reveling young people in a bar or club who are all living it up and having a great time, but on the inside, i am so bored and unfulfilled by it and would be more excited by curling up at home with a good book or chatting with my roommate at our kitchen table.
i guess i am just genuinely not interested in casual dating. i am also not interested in aimless clubbing or going to bars. and while i am at it, i am additionally disinterested in: tv, shopping, and sports. i am also somewhat bored by many tourist attractions. i don't like most things on the radio. i don't like most contemporary art in galleries these days.
the point is not that i differ from some others, but that i think i am really coming to terms with these things. because they do differ from many other people, and a lot of people that surround me now. and rather than faking myself and others all the time and pretending to be into these things and trying to be into them and wondering what is wrong with me if i am not into them, i regognize and accept that they just don't do it for me... overall.
here's what does it for me (a partial list):
- random, chance, coincidental meetings and conversations with unlikely strangers. conversations that flicker and spark and zap... meetings, mergings, minglings. exchanges of knowledge and emotion. whether they are with an old man or someone who speaks a different language almost entirely or a little girl or a hot sexy guy. i love connecting with human beings in ways that are natural and unpretentious and free of agendas. i love it when i have the opportunity to share love or happiness with another person... which is usually when i am feeling comfortable and extroverted (and i hope to get to the point within myself where i feel like this all the time and in all connections... or at least most).
- seeing beauty. and rather than a masterpiece in a gallery, it could be a sketch done by a bum, or it could be the Trevi Fountain in Rome, or some flower garden in a little alleyway in Brighton, England, or in someone's eyes, or in the wide open empty countryside. it is not so much about tourist destinations. sometimes those leave me empty whereas the view from a train window fills me up with awe and inspiration.
- creating things. creating words, lines, sounds, relationships, everything. making, moving, bringing about.
really, basically... it is all about being aware and feeling. feeling feeling feeling... seeing. loving. coming to know myself and the world.
more, soon...!