Second, have you ever been driving (or driven, for you underage folks) down the road and said to yourself, "Gee, self. I cannot help but notice that that person in front of me has a silhouette greatly resembling a person of the opposite gender," and then proceeded to make guesses as to what that person might be like? Maybe I'm alone here. But I think it's interesting making up knowns out of unknowns. So, for instance, the girl in front of me as I was waiting to get on the highway was an orphaned girl from history displaced through dimensional shifts, etc., etc. Far-fetched. Illogical. Somewhat cliche. But inspirational! I liked being able to just push away reality in a little square of actuality, and it got the creative juices flowing.
So, there's that. And I'll likely be getting into a new character development because of it, though the character won't be a displaced past resident. Probably.
Now, one of my things has ever been watching people as they are going about this and that. I was sitting in the halls of UVU today, not really doing anything in particular except watching as fellow students meandered hither and thither. At one point, an Asian guy walked past, and I thought to myself, "Man, that guy looks cool." And then I stopped myself, due to something so irritating, I must now rant about it.
I found myself asking if I thought he looked cool because he was Asian. A ridiculous thought! I told myself so, but I was still annoyed it came up at all. There was a time when people were people to me. Yeah, I noticed that Antoine didn't look like me, and Carlos looked different from both of us, and Ken different from we three. But when I was younger, it didn't matter. No one said anything about it because Ken's name was Ken, not Ken the Asian. We didn't call Carlos Latino or Antoine Black, African American, or what have you. But no, people have to complicate things. Yeah, I'm a white guy, 22 years old. Statistically, apparently, one of the most prejudiced against states of being (not that I put much stake in that, actually). As a matter of fact, I'm white, white. Nearly clear. I've even been made fun of for it. Which I get, but why should anybody think differently of another when they just look different?
Now, culture, I get. People feel more comfortable around people with similar ideals. This is why people of whatever origin like to stick with like people. It's comfortable. There's a deeper connection. Maybe not as interesting, but it's not something you can ignore. I personally don't feel like I have a niche, but then, people don't always get along just because they are of the same culture. Or maybe their culture is a little less definite. In the end, as my Philosophy professor hated people to say, who's to say?
One person who does fit in well with my thinking, as concurrently separate as his thinking is to mine sometimes, is one of my coworkers. Maybe 'cause we're both writers (to a point). With him, it's easy to have conversations. Sometimes, they're about writing, often not. I enjoy working with him, and he's one of a few coworkers I consider a friend. Anyway...
My point, I suppose, is be excellent to each other. And by all that is good and holy, someone tell me how I can overcome my anti-social behaviors (such as people watching)! Actually, my point seemed to meander greatly. Sorry 'bout that.
Oh, and thanks to everyone who read my story! Thank you even more to those who gave me advice, criticisms, and other ideas! Truly, the only way an author can get better is to suck first!
(I'll try to get the reference for that back here later to let everyone know what I mean.)
