my own little world is what i deserve, because i am the only child there is--the king of it all, the belle of the ball....

i am truman burbank. i am the star of a show devoted to my day-to-day activities, and people outside my reach cheer for and love me. producers plan events for me, obstacles for me to overcome, people for me to encounter, and character arcs for me to follow. once i leave a room, the people in that room cease to exist. i am on a stage, being pulled this way and that by external forces who hold an agenda for my particular life.

this has to be true. otherwise, that would mean everyone else has bad luck, strange encounters, and joy comparable to my own. no, the cars driving in front, behind, and to the side of me are piloted by persons with lives far less complex than my own. i am the only one who can comprehend the things that are happening to me; everyone else might have disruptions in their small lives, but not like mine.

this is what i think half the time. but then i realize that 1) my life is far too boring to be good television programming, and 2) i'm really just selfish. i'm guessing that these thoughts are almost universal, and that's why a) the truman show is such a great movie, and b) the world sucks an unhealthy percent of the time. and it's not the "do what's best for me" selfishness that gets me--i'm a capitalist and believe in adam smith's "invisble hand," to a degree. it's the "i am the only one who has a self" selfishness that kills me. after working as a waiter for a summer, a college teacher for two years, and just being alive for twenty-six years, i've seen (and displayed) this selfishness in its highest forms. not recognizing others as fully-formed people who love, hate, laugh, cry, help, and hurt is the greatest selfishness and shallowness, and i wish i was the one guilty of this practice.