January 21, 2010

• Trust and sharing were always odd things for me. I trust everyone. Or, at least, I run on a benefit-of-the-doubt system. In other words, you get all my trust up front and first. Once you break that trust, it retracts. Slowly, mind you. I'm big on forgiveness. I know I've made my own share of awful mistakes, so it'd be hypocritical of me to do otherwise, but, more importantly, you can't hope to get better if you aren't given the chance to improve. However, push me far enough and my patience will wear out.

  However, for the most part, this is pointless information (unless you want to get to know me better). The point is the second part of this - sharing. I trust easily. I don't share quite so easily. Well, that's not quite true either. See, I'd describe myself as an open book - you just have to open me. Ask me anything, I'll answer (generally; very rarely will I say no). However, don't expect me to tell you. Perhaps part of my nature which constantly puts the burden of initiation on the other person (rather than myself), I often won't volunteer to receive help. Part of this, admittedly, has to do with my childhood. You grow up with the parents I did, you'd value the sanctity of solitude too. Plus, when you can't even trust those who raised you, you learn the use of being able to take care of things on your own, as often as possible. Not that that's what I'd advice. I still strongly belief we're social creatures, needing others when it boils down to it. But I can get by on my own.

  So I don't go to others, share my feeling, vent, etc. on a typical basis. I'm also partly guarded, out of instinct. Sometimes I'll talk to usual friends if I have a problem, either because I'm particularly fond of them and want to strengthen our own friendship or because I feel they can help with this specific problem. Generally, though, I'll fall back on those I'm closest towards, which is still incredibly rare.

  I'm torn, as I've hinted here before already. And I don't have answers. Rather, I don't like the answers I've come up with. Yet I don't want to talk about it.

  I have to wonder if it's just the lack of focus, system. Or if, even if I received stability, I could be fine knowing it could randomly be removed. I suppose that's not much different than my original viewpoint. It's just knowing that certain virtues, Truths, et cætera, aren't guarenteed (curse me for being a moral person). I suppose things will sift through the filter, eventually. If it doesn't, there isn't a point anyway. So the idea is void.

   

  There's been so much sadness, lately. Xanga, my own head (humans have to be the dumbest creatures - they're given a brain capable of such abstract thought and intelligent awareness and then they make stupid decisions and judgments). I'd like to have the job, for the rest of my life, of just making people happy or righting wrongs, et cætera; it'd be almost mindless, a straightforward chore, which would constantly make me and others happy. I hate seeing pain.

  • 3:33 am
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