Resilience

Last month Mariana and I were indirectly talking about The Cigarette Club and she said how she is never able to fit in a clique. I felt kind of sorry for her. Years ago cool would be if I'd never fit in, if I was always the poetic renegade nobody could understand; this sounds very romantic in an E! True Hollywood Story way. Nowadays one of the things that got me depressed in the first half of the month was the fact I didn't fit in. I'm not an easy person to fit in. I'm snobbish [the -ish is an euphemism], but also very resilient - this, surprisingly, can drive people away.

Mariana claimed she seldom finds groups of people with same interests and ideals as hers and that she doesn't have much patience to be so resilient. I guess that's where she sins [not being judgmental, just analytic], because we [thank G-d] will never find people who perfectly combine with us; actually I don't think that's her goal, but in such a world as this, being resilient is almost a must. Sometimes it's a problem, when you lose track of yourself in the process, but being able to be in contact with different opinions and tastes and visions is not only interesting but invigorating. Especially when they're sometimes very different from yours, that's a great ego test.

In The Cigarette Club we share similar points of view and interests, but like anything else we have different minds and that adds so much to the whole that it's beautiful; from a distance if you pay attention to a fervorous conversation of ours, you might think we're totally nonsensical - I'd rather call it stream of consciousness. The other day we were speaking nonstop like mad people for hours and as I lit a cigarette I looked around and realized how Altman-esque and Allen-esque we sounded. Nothing made sense, but everything did.

Humans need to be around humans; we need to share opinions and feelings, have decent intellectual and emtional intercourse. Resilience is genius for that.

[Song: One Day - Björk]