And the Band Said … What?

Can I get a witness?  I have found that knowing things and KNOWING THINGS are two different types of testament.  I can “know” something in my head that doesn’t work out with my heart.  How wrong they both can be.  Having all parts of my body working in synchronicity is difficult.  I don’t understand how a person’s body can send so many conflicting signals. 

I think I know what I want, but I’m usually only partially right. 

As I’m writing, I realize that none of this matters.  None of my words or thoughts or feelings matter.  Things ARE or they AREN’T.  Period.  What is the point of typing feeling words into a computer?

There isn’t one.  

Post Modernism & Love

I’m listening to my 15-year-old tell her “being dumped” story, and it’s basically a (very close) version of what just happened to me, so … either I just dated an emotionally retarded 47-year-old, or people actually don’t grow up in any real way. 

I am loathe to embrace the second choice, because I feel like I have absolutely changed and matured since I was 15.  What is it about certain people who just remain childish and petty, regardless of the actual number of their age?  At some point, everyone needs to grow up.  It’s much easier to remain immature than to grow up and treat other people with respect.  It’s much easier to blame other people for … whatever … than to look in the mirror and talk to yourself about your flaws.  It’s much easier to lash out reactively than to reach out emotionally.  It’s much easier to blame other people than to take responsibility.

So … to all people, whether you are 15 or 30 or 45 or 70:  get the fuck over yourself. 

WE are all people.  WE all need love.  WE should treat people in accordance with the Golden Rule – which is treating other people the way you want to be treated, NOT (as many people misinterpret it) treating other people as they have treated you.  (This should be common sense, since none of us really ENJOY feeling like shit.) 

(I might be wrong there – some people seem to enjoy being serial victims.)

I used to be guilty of being a narcissist (when I was like, in my twenties), but I am now guilty of habitually putting other people’s feelings in front of my own.  I put up with other people’s shit if I love them.  But a person who truly loved ME would do the same for me.  Or, they would just NOT purposefully hurt me, because courtesy is taught as early as kindergarten.  Kindness just seems like common sense, yes?  And yet … a person’s age doesn’t matter.  People sometimes don’t embrace common sense, empathy, and self-love no matter how many years they’ve lived on this planet (with 7 billion other people who would all like the same self-worth).

Maybe, at the end of the day, the best cliché is to just Be Kind.