A Startling Sign That Fate Has Finally Found Me

"And Your Voice Was All I Heard,
That I Get What I Deserve…"
Thursday: "What concerns you more? The idea that nobody properly understands you? Or the possibility that they understand you only too well? It is one thing to want to be wanted, another to need to be needed. Difficult relationships could be made easier if you are now willing to put some cards on the table. You don’t have to show the whole hand. You can keep a few face down or even stash them up your sleeve. But there can be no progress until some kind of honest, open dialogue has been entered into. Speak your truth."
I find that a little bit ironic, when I feel more closed off from open dialogue than ever. I’ve done a lot of talking in the last six months, a lot of warning and posturing and blogging. I’ve spoken until I thought I had used up all imaginable speech left in the human timeline. I’ve spoken, and I’ve waited patiently for acknowledgement and understanding. On occasion, I have been met with the understanding faces of those that I was expecting would do so, but seldomly the ones I wanted. People seldomly think very far ahead, and rarely take into account the feelings of others when they make their choices.
I’ve had to make some major adjustments to my life. Sometimes I’ve wondered whether I was led here, or whether the choice was really mine. I made a lot of decisions based on misinformation, or lack of any information at all. I need to stop thinking about this life, any of our lives, as being one continuous path. They are tenuous, and they tangent off into so many different directions, it can be hard, sometimes, to imagine how your life could possibly be a self-contained unit. What I’m feeling isn’t always clear to me. It makes sense it bits, little at a time, coming to an eventual idea that makes some sense. In the moment I first feel them, and sometimes for awhile following, I haven’t any idea how I came upon those feelings, or what they mean. I need to dissect the concept of them, and feel them over and over in order to truly comprehend what they tell me.
People find me exhausting. So many people have praised me for my intellect, and then later criticised me for the very same thing. There are moments, then, when I realize why I used to stick to myself. I can carry on a fully functional, deep conversation at 4am going on three days without sleep. I can talk Jungian psychology and creationism, human rights, the id… other people have a very hard time keeping up with me. I’m beginning to wonder if maybe I do have something wrong with me. I feel unusual and misunderstood a great deal of the time. And underappreciated. There is no middle of the road for people like me. There are extremes, in the way people treat us. Black and white.
I don’t know that I want to talk anymore. I feel angry all the time because I’m screaming and nobody hears me. Everyone wants to know what I think and how I feel once the silence has set in, and then the minute I open my mouth to make a sound, I am standing all alone again. Nobody really wants to know, and nobody cares to. So I stop sharing. I’ll give you what you want, but no longer do I expect, hope for or even desire reciprocation. I know I’ll never get it, and I’m not willing to hurt myself knowing it won’t happen and hoping for it anyway.
Who the fuck even knows what I’m talking about? My brain is on fire with ideas, and thoughts. This is the melting pot. As for the torque wrench… the painful end of that one is still reserved for a particular individual who had best stay fucked off, because even the slightest reciprocation to another correspondance and I’m permanently vacating.

~ by Kд§$ị (ИovΔ) on 07/02/2009.

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