“The internet is not written in pencil Mark, it’s written in ink.”You reach a point in your life where you stop caring what the world thinks and just start living. Every day I am searching for the best part of me. Hoping I can use a simple excuse for my failures; like how we only ever tap into a small percentage of our brain’s potential. However, only you make you who you are today. As a wise man in my life constantly reminds me, you create your own reality. I retorted back in my youth saying that if this were true, I would be a popular cheerleader. I was 15. Ten years later and I can confidently tell you that I could have been a popular cheer leader if only I wanted to work for it. I have also learned that nothing in this world is achieved just because you want it. I must confess my laziness. I dream of a world where things are brought at my beck and call; much like the Egyptian queens back in the day. Gorgeous and powerful, how envious am I.
Life for me is full of hard lessons. Unpaid bills to a soap opera love life. I am not complaining, but it is clear I desired these things when I set out on my journey to get what I want with the smallest amount of effort as possible. Myself like others often realize too late that with a lot more effort, our lives could’ve immensely improved. Case in point, the use of the word could. Could, would, should are words constantly haunting my vocabulary.
It is all relative though, because the path that has happened has in fact already happened. Besides the fact that the world has not yet presented a time machine for commercial use (god only knows what the world militaries are capable of) but if we were to change the smallest moment, who knows what butterfly effect could occur. Some say that if we had taken out Hitler, his high commander could have taken his place. We lost a lot of people to their cause. Who is to say more or less people would’ve died if Hitler was taken out sooner? I use this example because this used to be my counter argument for the possible future use of time machines. It was brought to my attention one day, the cruelty of Hitler’s high commander and his being next in line to take over the movement. I guess we already know that didn’t actually happen when Hitler did die. But who knows what would’ve happened earlier on in his reign. We can not change the past, and if we could, why should we?
Someone who dreads their past actions is inadvertently telling their self and the world how much they hate them selves. Change, in any form, changes you, even by the slightest. You think telling me the latest gossip is delightful, but it changes my opinion of the people in the gossip. I could live my entire life with out knowing that Suzie’s husband is allowed a monthly prostitute because he can’t get it up any more with out this compromise. In this sentence, I learned several things I should not have known unless both Suzie and her husband told me directly with means of advice or a request. Now when I look at Suzie, I see despair and no self-respect. Now when I see her husband, I think pig and judge him harsher than if he had told me directly. Logical? Hell no. It makes no sense once so ever, unless you are thinking from a respect point of view. Maybe I respect his honesty and submission to me for help more than I disapprove of his actions. The same with Suzie.
I can not lie. A friend came to me with their own personal Suzie situation, slightly different, as there were no real attachments. Over time, I took Suzie’s honesty to heart and I could no longer stand by and watch my friend go against every moral fiber in my body. I often worry that I was jealous. She does have a more adventurous life style than I could ever imagine living. Sometimes I wonder if my own unclear feelings for her were my source of jealousy. But mostly, I wonder why our talks meant nothing. I did confront this person, but how do you say “Stop telling me your life story every day” and how does one respond. There should be no secrets between best friends. However, I think you can with hold facts without lying. The scary part is that I was the exact same way. I treated her like my personal diary. Telling her things I probably would not have ever written privately let alone share with a living person. I cut ties with this person once I realized her negativity brought out my negativity. This is what I tell me self. No person is with out sin and yet I constantly cast stones. I miss this person every day and I know she misses me. This is good news because it means we can rebuild this burnt bridge. We just can’t do that right now.
I’m telling you my deepest, darkest thoughts because sometimes you simply need opinion on them. I know that I am not crazy or delusional, but I also know that no matter how much you love seclusion, we all need human interactions. I often flee human interactions blaming them or saying how much I love my solitude. How much of that is true and how much of that is a load. I am often rejected by my peers. My opinions are not politically correct or I do not understand appropriate conversation for the given moment; or my favorite, open mouth-insert foot. Either way, it is easier for me to reject than to be rejected. I will say though, I do enjoy my solitude, immensely. Call it a coping mechanism if you like, but to me, this is my life.
What upsets me the most about my life is my self appointed status. There are two types of people in every scenario. The giver, the taker. The right, the wrong. The half empty, the half full. The two types I am thinking of are the leader and the follower. I have spent so much time trying to lead only finding my self always following someone else. This is why I could not be around the negativity. It really does come out of me when my leader exudes it themselves. I said at the beginning of this much too long blog that I was looking for the best part of me. Really, I am looking for the leader inside me. Why do I have to be a follower? If America says to me, that I can be any one I want to be, then I would like to be free. Free of my own chains. It’s mental though, motivation. Without obligation, I find my self sleeping, waiting. I have a messy house and yet getting out of bed is the biggest chore I face daily. WHY? I leave you with this question in hopes you have the answer. If I knew, I would not be in bed typing this right now.
