There were times as a teenager when i would be doing nothing on a Saturday night and was convinced, to a point of paranoia, that there was some massive party happening somewhere and i wasn't invited. Oddly enough, i wouldn't have wanted to hang out with those in my class who were there, and i was pretty convinced that the ones i did like were not there (hmmm....), but was exasperated about wanting to be included in some way.
Such is adolescence. The desire to be accepted, by those who have lots of friends, or by the freaks, whose friendships are few but strong.
Unfortunately that conflict stayed with me way too long, into my twenties and thirties. It's ugly head occasionally rears itself. And then i remind my self that i am in my forties.
What's it like to be self realized?
