Of Jealousy. In addition to laziness, judginess, and vanity, jealousy is one of my ten worst qualities. It’s genetic. It’s (em)pathetic. I don’t want to not be in my own life; I just want to live everyone else’s as well. Maybe because I’m still trying to find a way that best suits me, but as I peruse narratives and pictures of family and friends online I imagine myself in each different scenario and somehow, because I’m not involved in those moments, end up feeling slighted, sad, resentful and outside. Maybe I just want to be a part of things, maybe I wish to be the center of attention again, maybe because those static updates are all the positive, usually none of the negative, that they appear to be an enviable alternative to (my) broad-spectrum reality.

It’s not easy being green. But if I examine the feelings further I usually find the source of my covetousness and it can be transposed into something else. Desire acts as a scrim upon my initial aversion to certain choices, other ways of life (i.e., suburban, urban, professional, domestic) and I arrive at a harmonious conclusion. I quote the great James Van Der Beek in the classic film Varsity Blues, “I don’t want [dramatic pause] your life”, but as it turns out I am happy to witness it, be in a world in which it exists, and can file it away. I wonder if I will ever find a livelihood that resonates with most of my soul. I research, practice, compose, then retreat to bed for my favorite passive activity. Reading. Once I’ve conquered all the ugly jealousy in my heart I can tackle the next unlovely aspect of my disposition. But not today.

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