Oh The Movie Never Ends

Someone dear to me said recently that I should write a book or movie, seeing as how I am "full of cheesy lines". While I'm sure (or I hope) that it was meant as a friendly compliment, often times I wonder about things to do with things like that.

Vague, I know.

Alot of things going on now, if it were to be made a movie, the plot would be so convoluted I wouldn't know where to begin.

Probably with the simple question of "How are you?"

Something quite often overlooked, but a question that can mean and reveal so much, both in the manner of asking and answering.

Quite a few people around me facing one problem or another in their own little movies nowadays. Issues with space and time, problems unsaid and unspoken, melancholy vibes, stress and anxiety.

Sometimes I feel like the things I tend to wrest with in my head aren't all that serious, seeming trivial when compared to how others are. I can smile, laugh, joke that "that's what she said" and go off on ice-cream and cookie adventures, yet some say I've become broody. Tsk. I hate party-poopers.

I catch myself from time to time in the midst of doing something I know isn't smart or right or both. Yet I keep on going back to it, knowing it won't end well and that it's all for naught. Why? I tell myself that I need to stop, to forget it, to get past this thing. Then it happens again, every day.

I ask questions and dodge others, offer advice but don't take my own. What the hell am I doing?

How are you, really, really?