Happy Anniversary 

A relief to find the love of your life in bliss. Shared memories saved as pictures on a popular website. From what one can tell she is polite and happy. A comment or two appears below-she will thank you for the kind thoughts and words. The compliment given was a witness to true love and happiness. From what one can see is a slight embrace from the side, though definitely close and clinging to the other. Each are smiling enjoying their time out doors. They seem to enjoy one another’s company. Perhaps a day out to explore a park or some venue. Then later to have lunch or dinner depending on the time of day. The two are definitely enjoying one another’s company and will  intend to do so again as they had done so before. A way to add to the collection of how blissfulness is suppose to appear. 

Her heart skips a bit as she studies over their faces. Not so much the other woman, but of her love she wishes she could be there to replace. She imagines over again now that this must be happiness. I’ve had it confirmed; she’s experiencing what love means to her. 

Eyes crossed over now as the dampening of her eyes overflows. Her neck tingles, what an odd sensation and a place to feel loneliness. Her mind in constant repetition of her love, and of her happiness. Her face becomes hot and heavy, heart again slows down to a beat easily numbered. Not so bad now, this feeling she has felt numerous times for what has been…for what has been a year almost. Her brow is wrinkled as she stresses in her mind of the head throb pounding away. She tells herself this is pain. Actually, what happens in this moment is that her head  throbs as her mind overreacts to the slightest assumptions most likely true. She sheds a tear to allow for breathing. She begins to twitch to stop the words going over again-that her love is happy.

In the news is a hurricane too close for comfort. Will she come back again for those she care more about? Going over in the mind to accidentally find oneself in a time and place matched according to her love’s day-to-day activity or rush. In the news was a mass shooting affecting the lives of hundreds. Their lives taken by surprise now missed and altered forever. She thinks to herself-if it were her love…

A natural thought not one forced. She reflects again why this one and only this one love has made such a lasting impression on her mind. A regrettable mistake her love was, yet she cannot help to wonder if her love thinks of her too. If so it is a thought of a regrettable mistake best avoided if she remains true to her newfound happiness. Most likely this assumption is truth in a way. As for certain her love is flawed in being honest about emotional giving. One can’t help to think that she is so important in this universe that her love would want her again. 

A single picture can tell others about the event that has taken place. We can assume happiness as we are always smiling, just as we may assume neglect and remorse to those old photos tan and faded. In your own pictures, of your love and yourself, you think of what appeared to be…happiness. And when asked and complimented your love confirmed it was happiness. 

To whatever that had transpired to question that confirmation is now irrelevant. A time to move forward she tells herself, but to whom in paticular? You’re definitely an attraction, something wanted and desired though not for a long time. You’ve remained at settlement, a compromise then as you long for human touch, though from others that simply want a good time. In the moment you think this is for now, as you pursue what is for the future and ever lasting. You open your mind for love as your love asked you to do instead. You’ll find another. She said, I already did, but you didn’t want me. 

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Diotima

“Love is a divinely implanted impulse that subconsciously impels people to pursue immortality through having children, creating  enduring works of art, and making lasting contributions to society”

Ladder of Love, The Philosophy Book 

I’m writing a book about the purpose of our existence. This includes works in religion, religious thought and other religious philosophy that served as a precursor to human preoccupation of self.  In the mean time of reading and writing  I’ll come across a thought that should be shared. In this instance, the notion of immortality. Or actually how we as human beings place a greater importance onto and about our existence. One greater example is that of love. 

Love as an emotion, a desire that we may either feel or create first for ourself. Self-centered creaures that assume the world was meant for the individual. So we make a mark, an impression onto someone or something. In this age of social media, instant gratification and selfies I find that we take pictures of ourself out of self love and appreciation. Another reason to make a mark that ‘I, too, exist’ and feel important. Another way to make an impression that will last until the individual deletes or the media site has declined in popularity. 

Generations older are critics of this form of self love. Though this is no different than the story of Achilles and others like him taught that death is glorious when in battle. Especially one who has survived many battles and have the scars to prove-ancient Greek gratification. Older generations have had their means of doing so as well-something so minor as appearing before a crowded scene well dressed and rehearsed. 

Then we have media to showcase an act of kindness. Something that U.S. citizens as a whole are skeptical of the act of kindness. Whoever reveals with camera on ‘record’ of a life saved is instantly praised, hearted and liked. Liked and loved by the thousands actually-the person has gone viral. How rare it is to find someone that will forget their time? Sometimes forget their self even to rescue, to hug, to provide free services and access and to build a connection. 

There are critics to for all. ‘Why did a camera have to place a major role in this person helping another person?’ Then as a rebuttal ‘we need to be able to share acts of kindness to remind ourselves of humanity’ is essentially the back and forth summary of hundreds to thousands of comments on one news article. What happened? A depressed teenager found herself in a hair salon with her hair left unkempt. The hairdresser then decides to give her a makeover with a picture to share on social media. There is a comment further down asking, though typed as a statement, ‘why is this newsworthy?’ We are here to make a lasting, important impression that people matter and that we notice that someone is need of that reminder.

Even when in decline to love oneself, or depression, we find that we still place a greater importance of ourself. Whenever in this state one may say that they do not matter to the world, to society, immediate associates and family members. In this assumption still lies the need to feel important, a reminder in someone’s mind. In love lost one may assume a former partner to still love and require a reminder of that suppressed feeling. In some way the individual will make themselves important or wanting to make a lasting impression. 

And I think it is important enough to mention that this quote was told to have been stated by a woman. A woman whose existence is in question, though a name is given. Existing in a period of time in a Greek society that regarded women as inferior silent creatures, to read a female’s voice on a thought not written by her own hand. Instead restated by a man that claimed of her existence, a woman that gave him a lasting impression on the teachings of love. 

Before You Waste Her Time

I’m training a new team member twice my age. She tells me of heart ache and troubles everyone seem to suffer through lately. She’s part of the homeless that swear and beg for hours to pay for the extended stay hotels in Gwinnett County. 

In telling me about her situation; a corporate worker lost her job and home in a financial bind. Her eldest daughter is miles away in another state, desperate and heart broken. The daughter left to be with a man in age only, to live and to grow together. But as all relationships, really, they end. Her daughter is now depressed, in distress attempting suicide almost. I told the lady that’s my situation too. 

I didn’t travel miles to be with her, just decided to live with her in the current city.  I was warned and cautioned but it was love I told myself. I told her since you know me since I relayed all that I am on a dating site. The only means I may find someone. I took to a dating site for a serious relationship. Not a fairy tale forever, but something that will grow and last as we mature and understand the other. Apparently, despite her education being equal to my own, failed at reading and listening comprehension. A roller coaster of emotions about situations that I had told her that I been through before, yet nothing came of it. Reassured after a powwow and again…that everything is fine and that she wished to marry me. I continued with high hopes. It’s like what music tells me that relationships are a struggle, but so long as we struggle together for positive it’ll be well worth the time. No, my time, our time wasted. 

Dumped after my college graduation, dumped after resigning an agreement to live together in financial bondage. I lost it. I lost my temper, emotions overwhelmed me. As I told her that will happen-depressing episode. Her response was not that of love, it was the best way to contact the police officers. Yelling and tearing down my belongings so I could move out easier, though I did so in a fit of rage and I understand her confusion then, is grounds for my arrest and death. Again, a week after my graduation. 

I lost it. I lost myself in emotions. A heart and stress that shows on my face. My color has changed, become darkened. How long has it been since then? Nine months has passed and she is in her eighth month ‘anniversary’ with another woman. I’m tormented and devastated, constantly reminded of her. Always reminded of bullshit as I try again to keep my mind off of it. She wasted my time. Filled me up with hopes, said we could do it again some point. No I wasn’t listening to that part. I listened when she rolled her eyes as I tried to explain, calmly that I could not afford to live with her and her friend, now that there wasn’t a love bondage to ensure we would take care of each other. 

Depression has overcome me. I’m no longer living in anxiety of her presence since she has moved to live with her girlfriend, yet still reminded of a few family members I have met. Trying my best to avoid their presence and scene. Heart break turned into pessimism, almost given up. Trying my best to have goals in mind to keep me going. Homelessness is temporary, work menial task jobs for now to save for your MA degree and home. Continue to find a purpose, by weight training and writing. Even still there in my gym or here on this site I cannot avoid the overwhelming emotion of a heart break. Again I see it in my face, see it as I see my body as plump though I’m skinny. Stopping tears during random moments of songs reminiscing what I thought I had. 

As what most people, as it seems, think that they have is something forever. Combining finances and planning for the future as if it is marriage already. Why? We are taught to never be alone, yet I have witnessed a marriage where being alone is more preferreable than to fall into expectations. Expecting tradition, order in a world full of possibilities and options. Though if that had happened I would not have been born… I sit and think in the pointless mater of forming relationships. You’re infatuated, this person is your everything. Your milk to your chocolate, in my case I like it. It feels good but people cannot stomach bad moments. It just wasn’t going to work, as I was told. What the hell does that mean? Oh it means that love doesn’t exist. Every situation is treated like a stepping stone to something out there ‘better’ without conflict. I typed a post about this, while in a sad state, people want someone to confirm their bias. As she told me, her girlfriend-that’s ignorant of all details previous of her-told her that her causes and concerns were correct. 

What was there to argue about? Abuse. I was used and abused and did not know how to cope and to relate this to my now ex. She interpreted this as untrustworthiness, really cheating. Young as I am forming relationships I never had before. I could not shake the feeling that I had been forced into something previous of my ex. I’ll handle it alone as I tell myself, address the one responsible alone. I suppose this is the incorrect way to handle such a situation as it means one is cheating. Unable to comfort someone in need is her flaw. I suppose she’s right, it just was not going to work. 

Here I am 9 months later sniffling, going over my mind a hundred times more before I rest my eyes in my car. My temporary home. I think again in obsession as I wash dishes at one job; travel. My first job people are looking for a joke and a smile per usual from me. I tell them I’m going through some life troubles but I’m alright. It’s time to work, customers do not want to hear your story in addition so remained focused. 

I did contact her for an apology. Worst decision to make as she affirms she had done nothing wrong per usual. As I knew she would say stubbornly that she was in a dark place, depressed. Well better now it seems with someone new. She tells me this isn’t about ‘race’, since she’s not racist. I never mentioned color difference to her. 

Whatever, whatever a broken record of her words and her apathy and rude, immature behavior towards me plays over again. My reaction reminded to me again. Again, and again. I know why someone may commit suicide. 

I know what the love songs are talking about. It hurts. Wait, every reaction similar in my experience hurts. I understand the hurt as I listen to others or about others hurting. The more aged adults singing about how young a heart may become and it’ll pass. However they too at the age 45 and over dealing with heart breaks and longings, making it seem as if there is an age restriction to this feeling. It’s not immature, it hurts. 

And I listen to others and see why they are hurting. They, like myself, take matters of the heart seriously. Cannot stomach another commitment witnessing the same or similar patterns of behavior. With the common expectation of bitterness. It’s the person, the individual they say. Well I’m referring to her and other people in my past, hence why I made a dating profile address this exact point. In my ignorant assumption thinking she had read the terms and conditions to being with me. 

I digress, not actually, but for now I’m tired. It shows physically as my feet swell. In need of two jobs to afford a place and my education in addition. Sore and exhausted thinking work and working will keep me busy from the obsssesive troubles on my mind. I’m open an honesty about my struggles so I’m not stifling through tears trying to come up with a lie about my situation. Honestly I’m stressed and in need of sleep. 

As a child I slept away my loneliness-inability to connect with others, self hatred of my actual plump body, etc. So much sleeping to do as an activity,  I became pale and soft. My mom told me she thought she was doing us a favor by leaving us alone in our bedrooms.  No I tell her I anticipated bed after school so I may continue the story dream and to cry myself to sleep. 10, 12, 23 years old my more bullish family members tell me that I just cannot cope with life.
A funny world that we live in. It’s not funny. The lady’s daughter is being institutionalize, miles away from home, because of someone else. Someone else being inconsiderate means the person damaged is need of medication. If we are a danger to ourselves then we need to be institutionalized. I knew my ex was depressed and I tried my best to relate to her by sharing my own experience. Perhaps if I remained patient and supportive she would see that I love her dearly. No, this acknowledgement required love on her part as well. As I told her I’m sure she feels more appreciated now with someone new. It killed me inside when she said yes. It’s not you, it’s just me. It’s just me. My heart ripping to shreds. How do I cope? 

I try my best to keep my goals in mind. Again, homelessness is temporary, fast food worker as a college graduate is only temporary until I find one less judgemetal and rude employer to give me a chance…and so on. I look forward to purchasing books. I look forward to share my story dream, from my childhood, titled as ‘Rough Draft’. I find something else to do to snap out for only a minute or so until my mind falls back to its broken record.

I gave advice to my ex-essentially stating, please love the woman you’re with now. Nothing worse than time wasted and memories wasted and corrupted. Why? For the simple fact of never being alone. 

I’m sighing, not wanting to culture my space here too, yet feel more relieved as I share.

Rough Draft: When the Girl Is Too Nice

Previous Rough Draft: When You’re Older
Lisa S.

I told Elia that I’m tired of her shenanigans.

Lisa puffs on gas with her bro ‘J’. His name is Joseph and he’s a gas supplier, and everything else ‘feeling good’. Despite his dealings he’s an overall good guy, really. One that listens to his buyers as they share a bud, or another bad habit. A good guy always around with an ear for listening and time to pass.

“Shenanigans?” J questioned with a raised eyebrow and a smile.

Yea I told her that the love shit is for the birds. And she’s wasting my time, but I allow it since she’s beautiful to me. It’s time to move on, you know to swim with the fishes.

J laughs with her descriptions. Never the type of person is she to describe something verbatim, no that would be boring. Lisa is a favored customer, always entitled to some good hospitality because she humors him a bit.

“So we’re going to mention the whole animal kingdom about love then?” “Alright.” J passes the roach over to Lisa after inhaling. Exhale to allow smoke to cloud the space in front of them. “But for real I’m tired of her shit too bro.” J removes his hat to wipe his brow. “Always fucking with the emotions. I wouldn’t tolerate that with my girl.”

Lisa interrupts with a snide remark. If you had a girl.

J glances at Lisa with a face expression appearing serious but the look so controlled to indicate a habit of joking makes for good conversation too. “I can get a girl and I got a girl, just that she’s on vacation right now.”

To where?

“She’s just taking a break until I find her and call her up again.” J said while stammering, beckoning for his turn again.

You’re lame dude. Anyway, I told her that I can’t have just her anymore. Really, the girl from my childhood, cute as can be, and fine as ever now, still plays me. Then I had to step back and reflect for a minute. Like I’m good, well I’m of average looks…

“Right, right”

So I should be able to pick and choose which best fish to eat for a night or two, right?

“Right man, and really if you were into guys I might say what’s up to you too.” J shrugs while opening up a bag of sunflower shell-less seeds. He pours a handful, throwback into his mouth. Looking back at Lisa again, head slanted, chewing carelessly.

Lisa lightly pushes him off of his chair. A dramatic exchange of looks and laughter as he scrambles to find his seating again.

Women are just complicated, really she’s complicated. I told her too that she can’t just want me for one night. As if I am a person without emotions or a doll that’s like a blank slate.

“Oh like that doll in Black Reflection, to be what that lady had in a fiancé-a broken record of the past.”

I love that show.


When You’re Younger

Have you ever met innocence? This is a girl most likely young at heart, mind and body. She’s eager to play, to find adventure with another, yet reserved.

On a play ground standing by the swing set, she looks over to see children at play. Playing with leaves, climbing on the monkey bars, even the trees until Ms. Teacher comes over to bring him down. Little girl standing alone. She then stoops down to take a look at the ants. All the while disturbing their paths to a large kill…

Another little girl appears before her to witness the natural scene. “What are you doing?” asked the blonde one. I’m looking at ants, see. The blonde one stoops down to look down with the dark haired one. Picking up a leaf, a rock to pick up a cluster of ants feeding on a carcass.

A few boys are on the open field, rumbling and tumbling over the game of hand egg. Sweaty, nearly tired, pushing and tugging at the other for an imaginary goal not quite specifically defined. Two seeming to talk and shout at once. Three collapse onto one; screams and shouts in victory. They retire their play. Each encouraging with every other step to walk back to the main play ground.

The dark haired one looks up at the blonde one. The blonde one just as intrigued in the bugs and flowers, everything else not seeming to matter. A sense of fluttering and lightness of air around. A nice girl she may think. The blonde one catches her eye and smiles. This is nice she thinks.

The boys have made it to the main play ground. One on the far right points, utters “Look!” for the others to see. It is a time for teasing. In their view are two girls seeming too close for attention. Not just the two girls, together, but the weird one with dark hair. Whose ‘parents’ are not real as their mothers tell them. An abomination it is for two women to raise a girl that wants to be a boy, it seems. One boy carrying the leather egg decides to throw it at the dark haired one. A graze to the head, the dark haired one stands up in frustration.

Back and forth teasing, while this one boy, then another joins in to call her a ‘lesbian’. Frustrated as she is, the dark haired one seems useless in defense of taunting brats. The blonde witnesses all shy in her demeanor. Though a struck of courage befalls, she tells the boys to “shut up”. They all retort the same back. She then throws rocks and whatever else she may find at her feet. The dark haired one falling into tears, wipes away to join hands and to throw together. The boys have scattered.

Turn towards one another for a smile, hands still joined together.

Rough Draft: A Reflection

Lisa S.

She claimed to have loved you. A simple statement covering all the mischaracterization and lies she wrote, to you, while in admiration. She claimed to love you for you. It was your smile that brightened her day. Your thoughts on the latest news, and all other topics concerning politics to religion. It was your beauty she grabbed, and mastered to then coerce your passions for her body and mind. All the physical and mental affirmation of love claimed to be faithful. ‘I love you’, Elia said straining to hold back. “And if anything happened to you I won’t be able to go further”. She only liked you when you were funny, not like this moping about. She only wanted to be around you because you’re different. And there is nothing more exhilarating than to add color to one’s life.

A young woman experiencing that new phase called love, yet she is already burnt out. What did Elia’s love mean to her in translation? “I love you because your mind is tormented and your life is not altogether”. PAUSE. “I love you because right now, you need to hear it”. A waste of breath. A waste of time and energy put forth to make the best of a toxic situation. Elia cares, but she’s heartless and self-centered. Lisa feels emotionally depleted, now. A love seeming to be the end of everything the future could promise in true love and affection. How to take her mind from Elia’s lies? She tried cursing her name. She tried a new love, yet that proved a pointless effort. Every new love a pointless effort.

Ear buds in, cell phone in hand, Lisa subdues the noise within her mind. Scrolling through her playlist to search for passionate anger and frustration about love. Searching for that song, and those lyrics about the troubles of love on a young heart. The song about that girl so trifling and dishonest about her character; deceptive about the cause of her love. She finds it, plays it. From the low taps of the drums to the shriek of the heartfelt singer she closes her eyes- Elia never loved me.



Elia M.

Elia lays with Dylan. Their love will be celebrated within a few months, so something right and special for him is being decided. Something right… Elia knows she will not find another guy like Dylan, as sweet and with patience so rare to find. He deserves someone better, certainly more attentive and sure of who she is and what exactly does she want. A woman that will treat him as the only person that matters most, adoringly and as a best friend. Elia has a best friend, the one isolate and always troubled and in need of comfort.
You love her dearly but not in the way that it is meant. You please her in every aspect, sexually too. Though in your complicated affair you cannot part from Dylan. To spare his feelings is never a contemplated thought as you love him. You cannot part from your friend as to do so would leave her so devastated, bouncing on and off her habit again. You’re not responsible but you feel obligated-to both. I mean Dylan is for your image, for your parents to accept you. For society to see that you too have conformed to what is right. All that fake exchange of pleasantries and then that dreaded presentation of a ring. What would you say if he asked? A sense of hesitation sits on your mind. To erase everything, shake your head, stand up and walk out. Making your way to the dining room you take your phone. Tell Lisa that you miss her.

 

A Heart That Is Gold

After writing Hashtag ‘Talk To Someone’ the thought occurred to me that I should share this fact to two people. I told my mom and I told my only associate. I told my mom that I have a strong desire to just simply walk away. I told my associate that I rather not waste time on another person again, expecting them to be honest and truthful about their nature or character. My mom called me to tell me that, of course, I’m not alone. It’s a mental illness that runs throughout our family, from a grand mother that suffered from a more severe mental illness. Depression is a common illness in my family, something I know my mom to have. She told me that she too becomes depressed, to cry at night. I know the source of her problems, one that refuses to just leave on his own accord. A selfish and self-centered human being, just as the individuals I have encountered throughout my life so far. She told me that she too will cry, only to roll over and to fall asleep. To wake up and to pray that everything will be better. She told me of her distractions too, one that I have been aware of and concerned about as I age. The two parts of the conversation that…when my mom told me that she will cry sometimes, I found it difficult to imagine. You see, in my mind and through my observations growing up, I have never once seen my mom, or my dad cry. Though every time the topic of depression surfaces my mom will tell me that yes, they are human too and that they too express a common human physical response to emotions. I still find it difficult to imagine that my mom is just as vulnerable as I am. Even if I have witnessed her sad, I have never witnessed her to cry.

She told me that yes, as I grow older the more my nature will become challenged. She has always known and accepted that her two children are different from other children. She has had to explain and to defend to her own family members why and how her children are different. Per society standards, as young black people, my younger brother and I fail to be loud, eccentric, or to ‘live in the moment’. We are so different because we both value intellectualism, idealism, concept knowledge, abstract thinking, an inclination to reason and to challenge established norms. All that is considered odd because we are black; all that is considered disrespectful in some cases. An important point to make as this a cause for our experience in being bullied and harassed, as well for others to misinterpret who we are. The greater point here is that we are both quiet introverts, something strange to a group of people that only understand ‘voices are to be raised and heard’. This is my nature, to live in a world that is so loud and demanding for myself to speak up and state your position clearly for us all to hear. What else did my mom tell me? She told me that I am sensitive because I care. And she’s right. I have always been sensitive. I have always been the one to care a great deal about how  others are in their nature.

When I care, I care to understand the purpose and point of it all. I am also inclined to apply logic to what is emotional. As I described within my article of confession, the source of my depressed state has always been other people. Not only the fact that people generally make me anxious and uncomfortable, as I am hyper-aware that they have the ability to judge. People, as individuals who are all typically self-centered, unkind, judgmental and rude. I grew up within an environment where the strongest individuals were those that are rude, seemingly uncaring of other’s emotions and careless with emotions. Though they reveal how truly vulnerable they are whenever they feel the need to take revenge on those that may mistake them as weak. That is to return hatred with hate. Or to not concern themselves with the disadvantages of others by forming an attitude whenever asked for a favor, because the thought of being ‘used’ matters more than a person truly in need.  It is along the lines of this fact and those type of behaviors that caused me to be sensitive and to care a great deal into understanding them. To understand why such forms of behavior are expected to be justified.


Love

I am to apply logic to what is emotional. If you do not love a person, yet you tell them so as an obligated response within a relationship, why do you do it? What compels you, a person with emotions, to lie to someone else with emotions as well? This may apply to your current partner, spouse, friend, or even child and parent. Why is it deemed an obligation to face another human being and to lie about how you may feel about that person? In this society, or as I’m referring to the United States poor cultural habits, we are to lie to a person in order to spare their feelings. We are to believe that initial honesty within relationships are to be forgotten and regarded as sensitive matter not worth the trouble to share and to tell. Though we are creatures with the urge to tell. Instead of initial honesty, some people may tell a person their true feelings in a more passive sense. Instead of telling the person ‘I do not love you’, the unloving individual will purposefully purchase an item different from what you asked for exactly. Instead of confessing one’s true feelings, the person may lash out in anger over something petty or insignificant. As there are many ways to tell a person that you love them without those exact words, there are many ways to do the opposite. For whatever reason the exact purpose or point of this behavior is not understood.

The question remains ‘why do you do it?’


Trust

The idea of trust is foreign.  Actually, Pew Research Center has found that U.S. Americans are unable to trust their neighbors more so now than before. This fact is associated to different environments where poverty and [apparent] crime are heavily concentrated and specific. This fact too remains as our society becomes increasingly more diverse and that our economy becomes increasingly dire. On the subject of relationships, we find it difficult to trust  another person. And whenever a person expresses a sense of distrust in others, not considering those that are in abusive situations, the attitude that surfaces proves to be damaging. The idea of a lack of trust in individuals initially is the fear that all others will prove to be damaging to the person. Then a vicious cycle has been created. One person refusing to trust may become agitated, rude and the like towards someone that may be honest with their emotions.  Then the one honest by their emotions may then become distrustful of others, because of their experience with people that are agitated and rude. So on and so forth until a large population of people warn their children, or to give advice to someone that is troubled-that this is simply how people are.

Then there are those whose fears are confirmed as they are left abandoned in their personal issue to trust. In their minds it is then confirmed that people are not only untrustworthy, but they are just as uncaring as expected. A misunderstanding is then formed as every relationship is either sabotaged or put to a test.


Judgement

The fear to be ‘used’ is a fear to be judged by others. It seems that within our culture we must display a hard surface that is not easily penetrated by others. This is to say, if we are ever to find ourselves in a situation that causes for the kindness of heart we are told to never let it bleed. If we are to allow the heart to bleed we may find ourselves stripped of our dignity; of our possessions, time, money and body. If we are to allow ourselves to be ‘used’ we may find ourselves weak and judged. The last association we should want to have to our name is that we are easy and vulnerable. And the last thought we wish to have is someone, either closely associated or a stranger, to judge us.

So in turn a person establish clear boundaries of what requests are okay. One may find a person reluctant to give another person in need a ride to work. The reason given that it is their responsibility to have their own transportation, so if I were to forget then oh well. They will know. Of course a favor that is offered is a favor given in kindness. However, this is deed is concerned by how others may interpret the action as being ‘too much’. And by ‘too much’ meaning too easy, too vulnerable, well then anyone can ask this person anything and they will give. The fear to be judged, as applies to this examples and others not mentioned here, trumps the act of kindness.

 

unsung hero
Unsung Hero Commercial

 


A Heart That is Gold

It is those subjects and others more personal that causes me to feel disheartened. It is those understandings I have formed that leaves me to be questionable and concerned about others. But my mom told me, too in this conversation-that I will certainly lose myself in them. She told me, encouraged me to find my happy.  As she told me about her distractions from reality, or what keeps her going and anticipating for more, I was thinking of my happy. I had written in my confession that walking and writing are my happy. If one ever writes something sad or discouraging it always best to end with something that is hopeful or that it is a remedy. I am truthful in what allows me to escape though. I find my happy in those activities and in exercise. Obesity in the U.S. is another anticipated writing, as it was my personal experience as well. I never knew that exercise, taking a risk to lift something heavy would excite me so.

As I partake in all activities that are my happy, the conclusion then is that I should focus on myself. As my close associate told me, it’s alright to focus on yourself now. Then when you are ready to open up and to allow a person into your life again it will be worth it. If someone cannot accept who you are then it is their loss- to forget someone worth knowing about.

I’m not in the belief that my heart is so pure that I am without flaws too. I understand how my nature can be off-putting; seeming to cause conflict with others. This is true that I am sensitive about the greater sense of human behavior, but as far as individual troubles I seem more bothered by the request to listen and to answer. Well, especially since I assume the person is wanting for an answer to their troubles that is based on logic, rather than to simply listen and to agree. I disregard social cues. I may even belittle a person for simply being human without understanding what all I am saying or doing to that person. I am always willing to add self-criticism in addition to what I understand to be flaws in human behavior. I am human too, of course. And I am guilty of assuming one of those subjects of behaviors listed above. My inability to trust as I deny any chance to have close association with others or to form a relationship of any kind. My attitude then becomes of rudeness and being overcritical of how this too may fail. All because of my depression, pessimism and the like.

My mom told me to find my happy, but to also form happy thoughts. The concept here is that if I accept the negative thoughts that only deepens my depression, then to assume positive thoughts will increase my level of contentment. In that time I may attract the same within my environment and with others to be happy, as my close associate told me. In that case, to find what will work is the ability to find a balance.

 

Heaviness of Heart

Negative emotions seeps way down into the very pit of her stomach. Friendless and without a companion, she stirs the feeling of loneliness within her mind. When existing with an innate wanting for companionship, you feel the isolation of being without another person. When existing within a society that craves a companion for the sake of having one, for the sake of never ever being alone, it’ll torment your mind. Why? She longs for a connection of a likeminded person. She doesn’t believe in souls or soulmates, or anything else of the imagined spiritual world. She craves for someone real and likable for once. But not to crave a body, but of a person. A body is merely a vessel that carries the character that exist within our minds. Have you ever thought about that exactly? The essence of our existence, what makes us the person that we are, is entirely composed of neurons and tissue that exist as the brain. She wants more than ever to crave that person, and to have and to hold dear of that person for forever long. This is simply not possible. She exist among a popular frame of mind that being with someone, rather, is better than being alone. A culture shock as she flip through the books of ups and downs in relationships that cares more for a person’s body than the actual person. She is sick, now, as she too was used by past lovers to satisfy this insisting need to not be alone.

She is bitter. An emotion that cannot be denied as she questions the predators of her lonely sensitive heart. Do you understand her or do you simply want of what you see? Do you like her or do you like an idea of someone so insightful and inquisitive that you cannot wait to master the experience of someone like her? Like her to place on a pedestal, like her to use as someone to make up the time and space left and forgotten by a past lover-or so it seemed. You do not actually care for the person that she is, really. She is a place holder within the chapter of your life, as you navigate your wants and need in a person through trial and error. Her limbs trembling with…stress, perhaps anxiety of meeting someone like you. Like the ones that left her broken, sunken in self-pity and regret that she may never let go. She may never trust again.

To exist alone until someone takes her love seriously.