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A conversation between mum and I just now, mum is 'M', I am 'K'. It's one of my really superficial moments, I warn you right now. Honestly though, this conversation took place about thirty seconds before I started to type it (the computer lives in the family room you see, so we converse while I'm on the net and so on and so forth).
K - Last year at uni I learned that there was this line around the world that seperates the developing countries from the developed ones. All the countries below the line are the developing ones, all the ones above it are developed. I personally prefer to take my holidays above the line.
M - Yeah, because the Hiltons under the poverty line are only three stars, not four.
K - Shut up! You know, 26 percent of Micronesia's population live in poverty.
M - Well, not necessarily.
K - I suppose... it really depends on how you define poverty yeah?
M - Yeah, they might not have telephone lines, the internet and all that, but they can live a pretty good life. They go out, do their fishing or their farming, and live their lives. It could probably be a pretty fulfilling existence. Really, who do you think gets more out of life?
K - Lemme put it this way, while they're out fishing, I'm staying in a four star Hilton. I think I know who got the sour end of that deal.
So there you go. Me in all of my superficial 'it doesn't matter so long as I am comfortable' glory. Marvel at it, throw things at me, and call me a selfish bitch. But think about it, really, wouldn't we all rather be staying in a hotel?
It seems to me that my existence is based on a series of relationships that I have with other people, be them good, bad or indifferent. I rant, rave and obssess about how other people percieve me, even though I claim that I don't care. it's a pretty sad state to exist in, but at the same time, I feel like it gives me something to be concerned about. I love living the way that I do, with the people that I have in my life. But at the same time, it would be nice to be able to stop for a moemnt, without the interference from everyday life, and examine who exactly it is that is living inside this body of mine.
For nineteen years, I have done whatever I wanted, pretty much whenever I wanted. I haven't carved myself a little niche in the world, rather, I have let the world find a niche for me. I feel stable in my own little corner of the universe, but recently I have come to wonder, has my time in this niche started to run out? Am I starting to evolve beyond this? Things that I enjoyed a year ago, I find childish and stupid, but yet things that I hated last year for being childish, I now adore beyond reason. Am I growing up, or merely taking a few steps back? Is that what growing up is about, realising that you don't have to pretend to be grown up in order to do so?