The Obscure

Arrakis Awakening, by the Princess Irulan

I am not in the mood to write, nor do I have anything going through my mind which I may write about; yet, I've found that some of my best stuff comes out of me when I am in a totally uninspired state. Unfortunately, some of my worst stuff comes out of me under the exact same circumstances. We'll just have to see how this goes, if it is terrible, then it will be nothing but a waste of my and three or four other people's time. If it is good, it will still be a waste of my and three or four other people's time, but I can be slightly more satisfied with the time I wasted on this particular evening.
Sometimes I have the audacity to call myself a writer, I don't mean to do this terrible thing, it just pops out of my mouth. I spend a lot of my time writing, so I suppose that title could fit, but I hold the idea of actually being a Writer on a very high pedestal. The things that I write are no more than angsty descents into my own psyche for the purposes of emptying my mind of the things that burden it. I do not think that is actually "writing," I don't know what one would actually call it, but I think the actual profession or calling of "writing" is more than that. Hence my reluctance to call myself a writer, hence my desire to waste an entire paragraph describing this constant floundering in the deep pools of social inaptitude.
Earlier today I ran into my ex-girlfriend. By "ex-girlfriend" I mean the girlfriend I had before my most recent ex-girlfriend, the break-up with whom devastated me in ways I hope never to experience again; and by "ran into" I really mean "walked by with a nervous smile and quick wave."
I wonder if one can ever truly be comfortable around someone with whom they were so physically and emotionally intimate with during their pubescent years, only to have it broken off. My personal experiences aside, a purely philosophical question. Your first serious boyfriend or girlfriend, a relationship grown a little too serious and then broken off for any variety of reasons. Can you truly ever see that person again in the light of just another human being, carving a life out of this rock like every other human being that you see every day? Or will the light shining on them always have the slight tint that shows that that person know some of your most intimate secrets, and you some of theirs? Extension: Can one truly be friends with any "Ex" the way they can be friends with someone with whom one hasn't shared any deeper level of intimacy? Does sharing the illusion of love with someone forever change whatever kind of relationship you may have had with that person in the future? Or is that just for those of us with a heightened sense of their own social and romantic failures?
Following this line of thought, what about (and pardon the expression) "fuck buddies?" Where is the line drawn between romantic physical acts performed under the illusion of love, and the consummation of lust between two people otherwise unaffiliated except perhaps through the bonds of platonic (yet occasionally sexual) friendship?

There is nothing in the world that is not as confusing as hell, if you give it any thought.

Goodnight folks.