November 17, 2012
i have a confession to make.
really. truly. by the bye–exceptionally.
i think this is something people don’t realize when at first interacting with me.
in fact, i have been dumped twice because the individuals did not “realize how sensitive i was”.
i have no ill feelings toward these fellows.
nor the circumstances that forced us to part.
but the situations do make me chuckle.
at the time. of course. i did not laugh.
i probably cried.
and said “whhhhhy don’t liiiiiike my sensitiveness??”
and although this sounds a bit pathetic:
ill take it.
because even though at those moments i was felt terribly exposed and caught off guard–
i realized then that i had no idea that my sensitivity was some super secret.
something that jumped out at people when they least expected it.
to me, it was just a fact.
i cry at emotion-filled parts in books and movies.
and i get overly furious at injustice and things that make the world a worse place
i believe in exuberance. explicit intensity.
i believe in living. and doing it as completely as we can.
which happens to be with all we have.
so to me, sensitivity is not equated with weakness.
it is instead, living to the point of tears.
while interacting with life to the greatest degree that we can.
and while i often use apathy as a shield.
this isn’t an attribute i would ever admire.
in fact, the more callous i am, the more cynical and emotionless.
the more vulnerable i actually feel.
i close off my sensitivity because i don’t know how to exactly show what i am to the world at that moment.
when life throws everything it has. and i don’t know how to deal with it.
that’s when i also don’t know how to be sensitive.
i don’t know how to interact with life.
and instead– i just don’t.
although this is often times interpreted as such:
this is not and never will be: strength.
for it is cowardly to hide our feelings.
i know an individual that because he did not know how to exist fully in my presence,
he just didn’t.
and as i think back at the subtleties that allowed his personality to come through,
i realize that i loved those moments best.
and while those times were far and few between. i miss them.
just as i often times miss the person a very good friend of mine will always see in me.
when i was with her. i was everything i am.
i felt. with every inch of my soul.
and on those days i dedicate to apathy, i realize that she would be ashamed of this stranger i sometimes become.
for when together, we spent our moments intertwining each and every thought that we had,
and in doing so, i became fully alive.
it is by living in this way that we are actually able to connect with one another–
when we show how and who we are.
when we let our hearts bleed. and our selves resonate.
while many people do not always see this quality exhibited in my day to day self.
it is because i don’t always show it. even though i should.
i will never believe that sensitivity is to blame for the world’s problems.
i will never see it as craven
i reserve those feelings for apathy.
vivez au point des larmes.
April 4, 2012
i wonder why we need sleep. and i truly hate the fact that i have to sleep.
im sitting here in clothes that arent mine. with hair that smells like restaurant and hairspray. teeth freshly brushed. faced lotioned and washed. and. even though my entire body is begging to sleep: im protesting.
if you remember clearly, we’ve been over this before.
we go over this a lot.
mallory says that sleep restores something-or-another-thing-that-i-need.
and einstein said that he liked to let his imagination wander while he slept.
i say…that i dont want it.
i dont want to NEED it.
i want to be able to relax when i see fit. and to never be tired.
is this such a demanding request?
i just dont want to be controlled my these physical responses. it feels primitive and only reminds me that a large part of me. my foundation. is. primitive.
my thoughts. at this moment. are elsewhere.
theyre not on sleeping. and my utter need for it.
part of me is busy thinking about feeling guilty
for some of the more negative habits that i’ve been collecting.
like neglecting to do the things that i value.
and the fact that i find that over and over again i say that i need to do this-and-that more often. and then i dont really do it.
and thats one of the main reasons i dont want to go to sleep tonight.
i want to start changing some of these more unbecoming habits
sometimes. i get into these phases where all of my priorities are tipped upside down. and then i walk around for a few days.weeks.months. wondering which way im suppose to go. and how im suppose to get there. when i dont remember what has meaning and what doesnt.
this is where im at right now. and this is what ive been thinking about in the last few days.
and the worst part is that im content.
thats why i feel the most guilty. i havent been doing all these things that i want to make sure i do. and yet. im content.
and it makes me feel that much more guilty.
i need to find a moment to start dealing with these things. but i feel like as soon as i do. this nice simplicity of not thinking that i’ve been absorbed within will probably vanish along with my hedonism.
so perhaps…tomorrow. if i can lose some of the carefree apathy for a few minutes. im going to rewrite some priorities. itll be good. and itll make it easier to sleep.
well. probably not.
i probably will never stop complaining about this obligation.
we’ll begin tomorrow.
January 20, 2012
ive been slowly learning exactly what this word carries. the weight that rests on each letter in this single syllable.
the desperation that it encompasses.
the isolation that it guarantees.
the inevitability of suffering that drowns the holders of this somber word.
and along with its definition, its implications–
the extent to which it can destroy your world.
when you wonder what people would think if they really knew how worthless you were. when you cant fathom how someone could love something so unlovable and if they believe they do, then you’re sorry, but they’re mistaken. they’re confused. they’re blind.
when you feel that your worth is so low that you are ashamed to need love. and the moment that you do, the moment that you find yourself begging for someone to love you, you want to run so far away from the world to be alone with your pathetic self.
you want to cry, but you also want to assure people that you can take care of yourself. that you have everything you need, and you wont be burdening them for anything–so not to worry.
and when i stop and realize how many people feel this way, feel so ashamed for wanting love, i want to hold the world and never let it go. because i also realize that the vast amount of this unique brand of shame is created by people feeling the weight of other’s excessive apathy.
so many people in this world truly cannot see outside of themselves to love someone else.
and because of this. i want to force people to forget themselves for just a moment and remember how to be compassionate. i want to badger them until they get over themselves and start loving people the way everyone should be loved.
i want the world to feel obligated to love. and to embrace that obligation instead of turning their lives into a self-obsessed pilgrimage to themselves.
i understand the reservations in this world against this expectation. but in no way do i condone the ill-forsaken manner with which the majority of people regard others.
it is not simply the selfishness that runs through the veins of every individual but the blatant lack of a compassion that so. many. people exhibit.
and my hatred for this realization boils so deeply because of the devastating implication of shame that ensue from this selfish level of apathy.
the shame that is created when someone is seeking compassion. is denied it and then is vilified for looking for it in the first place.
and it is this shame that plagues the world we live in.
it is this shame that forbids people from expressing their hearts. that discourages people from loving. that destroys the pockets of potential in so many individuals.
it is this shame that usurps hope from our world.
that forces people to wait for the next opportunity to realize that no one could ever love them.
that destroys our belief in trust and in connection.
that fosters our desperation and isolates our hearts.
this shame castrates our world
and in one quick syllable, it paralyzes our souls.