Stories full of foolishness.

I used to be jealous of people who have lots of stories to tell. They would be in a party, with a circle of people around them and were like a magnet drawing people in with their takes.

I felt so bland. Why haven’t I lived? I was a white sheet of printer paper, when it seems everyone else was the Sistine Chapel ceiling. I had nothing to tell.

When thinking about that recently, I came to a sobering conclusion. Most people tell stories about their foolishness. Other people laugh or marvel at other people’s stupidity – it seems. No wonder people like reality tv.

Have I been envious of people who find it funny to have been a fool? Now, I’m not saying I’ve lived a foolish-free life. My point is I’ve wished to be a fool by listening others tell their stories of being fools.

No one sits around and tells stories about helping others. Maybe those in the military, police, firefighters or emergency technicians. I don’t know. I guess I now long for my stories to be about things that matter. I want to hear stories about things that matter. I’m sure all this is about my age. I know people didn’t think they were fools at the time they were doing those things. I’m sure they thought it was fun.

I’m longing for stories of accomplishments now. Don’t tell me about how many girls you could get to come to your apartment when you were in college. I want to hear what you’re doing now with your life. And I hope it isn’t you going to a softball tournament. I want to be around dreamers making their dreams come true. I don’t want meaningless conversations going nowhere. I’ve been going nowhere for a while. I’ve been wanting the life of people going nowhere for a while. And I’m done walking in a circle.

Not that I want life to be all serious. I just want to hear stories from people who are executing their plan and are having fun doing it.

So what plan am I exciting? How do I become like those I want to attract?

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Stories full of foolishness.

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