Wednesday, May 03, 2006
It has occurred to me today how little people really actually know me. Everything from the message my little sister sent to my mom's thoughts in the advice letter she sent a few months ago. As I look at the people around me, most of them try to help me but are operating on a completely misguided set of assumptions. They assume they know me, that I am predictable, or that my problems are common. Perhaps those latter two are true, but the former is not. Many of their attempts to help me, make me feel loved or supported, to make me feel at ease in the world, to make me not feel alone do not help, but instead fall by the wayside or actually harm me. I have so many dreams, so many things I want to do, so many things I try to do, but at every step I find helpers in the way. They demean my goals due to misunderstanding or social customs. Some offer more in the way of soothing and comfort than others, but none really strikes me at the centre where I can let all of the weighted masks fall.
I cannot drop what I do not know I am holding. I cannot ask for that which is lacking in my life if I do not know what it is. Yet still I am weighted and in need.
Is there no place, no people, no language where I can simply be left to be and work my own devices? Why is the world so competitive and in turn critical? Why cannot people just be as they wish and feel support rather than condemnation from others? Is not love, in fact, easier than hate? Am I deluded in believing so?
Are people really so afraid that they must cling to each other and create a universal game to hide their true selves from themselves and each other?
Or do they really all come from this mold and have no desire to transcend it?