I'm just a soul whose intentions are good. Oh lord, please don't let me be misunderstood. -The Animals
We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be. -Kurt Vonnegut
I find myself, often, thinking about intent and perception. About the way/s I am perceived, and by whom. About the vibe/s I give off. About the discrepancy between how I feel, in my core, in that pit, and about the way I present myself to the world. (Not new ideas, I realize. But then, is anything ever new? iPhone apps, maybe. Not that I would know.)
In my core, in that pit, I am good. I am patient and kind and caring and understanding and humble and fun.
But in my core, in that pit, I am also bad. I am impatient and spiteful and ungrateful and mean and vain and dull.
And how does one balance these things? Is there a balance? I am mistrustful of people who seem too happy, too full of optimism and joy. I see the world through (contact) lenses of reticence and cynicism. There is a lot of shit in the world, a lot of stupidity and ignorance. I am not content to let it slide. But who am I to say, anyway? Always this conflict in me, between honestly believing that personal value is value, regardless of my opinion on the subject, and wanting to shake you and call you a fucking moron for liking that movie. I don't know why I care.
And I wonder why I can't just be nice, pleasant, fun. Share my life with you, my stories, be interested in your life, your stories. I am terrible at small talk. I hear things about myself sometimes, things that make my core squeeze and tighten, the pit blacken and curl in on itself. She is bossy. A bitch. A snob. And as much as I want to know these things, because of my interest in intent and perception, I also don't want to know them, because it hurts. And there is this well, deep and cool and dark, somewhere inside my core, behind the pit, that feels, boundlessly. Such overwhelming joy and desire and gladness and empathy and pain and sadness and despair.
Shut up. Fuck off. I don't give a shit. I want to punch you in the face. Get over it. Grow up. Take some responsibility. Stop whining. Do something.
Tell me. Come here. I'm listening. I'll do whatever I can to help. I admire those qualities in you that I do not possess. I'm okay with it. You are smart, beautiful, talented. I enjoy spending time with you. I'll never judge you, for anything, ever. I'm sorry. Forgive me.
You know?
