Honesty

Today I've been filled with a deep sense of sadness and regret. The world just feels different and homeless tonight. I considered life in a much different way for a moment today as I was walking back up to Heights (my dorm). I was kicking little pebbles, and the thought occured to me that millions of little bacteria were living on the rocks, and as I kicked them and they scraped against the ground, I was killing so much life without even thinking about it. Then I looked up as a bird landed on a tree, turned its head around and crowed. It made me think about how chaotic life is, and it made me wonder what made a bird's life so much more valuable and sacred than the millions of micro-organisms that live on rocks. I guess it's just their relative status to humans - we perceive human life to be the ultimate, and animals/beings closer to us therefore have more relative value when their lives are concerned. That makes the little bacteria on the rock almost worthless in comparison. But then I thought that to the universe, to the world, to the chaos that allowed life to come into being and continue here on Earth, we probably are no more important than the bacteria on the rock.

But that did not arouse any great sadness in my heart, for all my life I have valued humans above animals above micro-organisms and so on down the line. It's just natural, being from the society I am, and especially as a human being myself. Today was a strange day (classes were canceled, everything happened in a different order, just not the normitive Monday for me), and it got even stranger when one of my good friends told me someone she was friends with just died. I was sympathetic, of course, and then I thought that I'd never be able to handle it if someone close to me died. It was just a fleeting thought, and I rather simply passed it from my mind and went on to other things (like dinner, homework, etc.). But I think it stayed with me somewhere in the back of my mind and heart.

A long time ago, whenever someone told me that someone they knew died, it didn't really sink in too well. My grandfather died when I was around 5 years old, so I never really knew him so well. My grandparents' brothers and sisters have died since then, but I never really knew them so well, either. People I've been close to have never died; some people have passed out of my life and into the world somewhere, however. And so when someone told me that someone died, I always used to think it a terrible tragedy (I was sympathetic for them; I don't want my friends being hurt), but not for the most obvious reason. I always thought that that was one person I would never, could never, meet and get to know. I always wondered why it happened that way - I would never know them, and the only connection to them I had was through this other person. What did the deceased have to do with me? How should I feel for them? I always thought it incredibly saddening that they were gone from the world, no longer able to affect it personally, meet new people, feel love, live life.

I still don't know how I feel about this. Today I am much more respectful in my feelings for the people who actually know the deceased (I feel bad due to sympathy, not out of tragedy). I've seem to come to accept the way of things and the planned nature they follow. It may not be planned, but considering it did not happen any other way, I see no problem calling the past a map of all that has happened. Some may say it could have all been different, someone didn't have to die. I'd like to believe that, I'd like to believe people didn't have to die when they did. Life seems like something you should be deserving to get as much as you want of; but that is probably very rarely the case.

So what does this have to do with me, personally? (And hence be put in here) Well, it made me consider deeply how I would feel if someone close to me did die. I still can not fathom how I would respond to that; it's just not something to which I can realistic envision me responding. I just don't know how it will be. But it did make me realize that I would want anyone who was close to me to know who I am, assuming anyone I know died, or even potentially me, myself. It's a harsh reality to consider, but it's made me realize that for possibly the first time in my life, I regret something. I regret not letting people know (even if it's just the closest people) much of anything about me. Yes, you learn a lot about a person by interacting with them, even asking them questions about things and such, but most people don't really know me as I exist and view myself. I've said something to this effect throughout this blog, but it was not a very legitimate effort. This deep sense of sadness and regret requires me to be very honest for the first time in my life in this manner. I don't know why now, or if it matters, or if I'll ever feel this way again and shun all this tomorrow. All I know is what is going on right now, and that's what's driving me.

Who am I? What am I all about? What means something to me? What is life to me? Who are my friends? For whom do I really care? Whom do I love? Why do I love? I'll try to be as emotionally honest as I can be (no arrogance intended). If I seem to take leaps of confidence, try and remember, I've lived with myself all my life, I know many things about me that none others do.

I am he who loves uncontrollably. I haven fallen for many girls in my day, in many different ways. I will say truly that I have only fallen in love once - and this is not a simple matter. I refused to let myself believe it at first, so great was its pull. And so tragic at the time. It meant making sacrifices I never considered outside of my worst fantasies of dark futures. I don't think it will leave me. I don't think it has to.

I am he who loves completely. My heart fulfills all prophesies of the grandeur of love - it is given over in totality when it falls. I resist it not a bit, for even when I try it makes no difference. I don't know if I love more than others do; maybe I am just more open with myself about it. I can't hide my feelings from myself.

I am he who cares for others more than himself. People are the world to me. My fulfillment comes from others' happiness. I feel my place is to be for others.

I am he who is self-sacrificing. I will always suffer pains rather than let others do so if I can. I will stay silent in the midst of endless pain, rather than allow someone for which I care to suffer the slightest. I admittedly feel quite a bit of pain for this. Yet no one ever finds out the pains I suffer for them, and most likely never will; my love is too great.

I am he who listens. My natural state is to listen to those around me in order to understand. I feel at peace in the words of others; their stories soothe and warm me. I often will get lost in someone's story.

I am he who lost in eyes. When someone tells me a story, I connect with them. I will often stare into their eyes, and assimilate myself with their soul if they continue long enough. My love for someone sincere grows the longer I stare into their eyes.

I am he who learns from eyes. I understand people by looking into them. Someone's eyes have never lied to me, in truth. I stare back, with equal confidence my eyes hide nothing that I know or feel.

I am he who never lies. A little here, a little there. I try to only tell untruths in jest or sarcasm. I have never lied to a serious question, it just has no feeling for me. I, unfortunately, craft my words in such ways as to avoid lies by hiding the truth far more often. This mostly comes to shield others from pain, and has adapted into other, more common uses.

I am he who wants not to lie. I feel like I should never have to lie. I want everyone to know the truth all the time. I want those whom I protect to know from what I protect them, and how it makes me feel. I know I will never tell them.

I am he who is resigned to fate. I understand some things I will never be able to say, and some things I will never be able to do. I understand why, usually. I understand that the past happened as it did for the reasons of that time, and can not be changed. I understand that my place in the future will be set when I get there.

I am he who turns the lights out after everyone has gone to bed. I always clean up and put things in their place after all have gone to sleep. I am almost always the last one to go to sleep; it's in my nature of caring for others. I often stand at a gateway to the outside world after I turn off all the lights and wonder. I feel lonely, but I feel right at the same time. I will always be the one to tuck someone in, to carry them to their bed, to clean up anything left out, to store it safely and put it back in its proper place.

I am the one who loves so much. I will always care for someone deeply, without recourse. I will always be there to tuck them in, even when they do not need it. I will always be the one waiting to help, looking out from afar. I will always make sure no harm comes. I will always be willing to sacrifice. I will always be the last one up at night.

I am the one who lives by hope. Hope is all I have to live off. When there are no concrete things to keep me afloat, I soar on hope. My whole life is based around hope. My whole future is based off hope. All my love is based off hope.

I am the one who hopes for romantic love. The only purpose to my life is to find someone to love who will love me in return. All other goals, aspirations, hopes, dreams and wishes are secondary. I feel it will bring a sense of ultimate happiness. I do not believe this is being naive. I also don't know if it will ever happen.

I am the one who was made to be one. Everything about me is set up to be independent. Everything about me is set up to be solitary. I love completely, without love in return. I suffer silently, without external reward. I complain only to myself. I need no one to sustain me. I have strength greater than I could express. I have strength greater than I could believe.

I am the one who is the weakest of them all. I am struck low by devastation. I am crushed by heartbreak. I am leveled by disappointment. I am wasted by failure. While success is prideful and fleeting, failure remains in my heart for all time. I can relive embarrassments at any time and feel as badly as when they first happened.

I am the one who needs to be perfect. Failure is my greatest enemy. I feel a dire need to act perfectly for those I care about. I feel the pressure to be a flawless support. I feel it a requirement to have useful and meaningful advice. I am struck horribly through my heart when I fail to see something. I am tormented when I say the wrong things.

I am the one who speaks very rarely. My words can have beauty far beyond ordinary means. They can have insight and depth and meaning without parallel. I always have something contributive or meaningful to say. I only speak on things when I'm sure nothing is wrong with what I have to say. I am very rarely positive that what I say is perfect. I don't ever say very much out loud.

I am the one who has lost his compliments. I used to be wonderfully charming. I used to say a lot of very nice things. I used to say them in earnest. I used to sincerely tell people great wonders about themselves. I used to brighten people's day. I don't do this anymore. I am too afraid of rejection. I am too afraid of it being misinterpretted. I am too afraid of being insincere.

I am the one who is only sincere. In all my respects, feelings, sayings and actions, I am sincere in my intent. I try to be as kind and gentle as I can be. I've stopped being mean to people as a whole. I care much more deeply for people in general. I tell them no lies about themselves. I honestly want to help them. I honestly care for them. I have never faked a feeling.

I am one who judges. I expect people to be sincere in all their actions and intentions. I expect people not to be greedy. I expect people to be perfect. I realize they can not be. I accept people for who they are.

I am the one who forgives. I never used to forgive anyone of anything. Now I forgive everyone of everything, in time. I care too much for people now. I can easily be taken advantage of, again. I can defend myself, but I forgive all transgressions against me.

I am the one who lives. Life is important and meaningful to me. I spend every day doing things I feel like I should be doing. I want to do the things I do. If I don't want to do something, I don't do it. I don't waste my time living a life I don't want to live. I love my life and that of which it is comprised.

I am one with the world. I live in the world and draw energy from it. I draw back into it when life gets hard. I come shining forth from it when life is beautiful. My whole life is centered around the world and its beauty. I often stare out into the world, the sky, the trees, the plains, the mountains, the ocean, everything. I love emotionally in the world. It is a part of me as I am a part of it. I love the world, as it loves me.

I am the one who appreciates beauty. Beauty is extremely important to me. It is not superficial. I find beauty in the souls of others. I have only ever loved beautiful people. I believe all people can be in some way beautiful. Some people call this goodness. I don't believe that truly captures the picture. There's some inexpressible quality that only beauty can encapsulate. A sunset over the ocean can not simply be expressed as good. It has a quality all its own, that deeply fills our souls with wonder.

I am one who writes poetry. This is the greatest expression of my sincerity and intent. It has always been misinterpretted for something much more superficial and something much less sincere. I've stopped writing poems for other people. It hurts too much to have people consider me insincere. I've never written wholly for myself. Poetry is the most important and meaningful thing I have ever created. It lies in a realm all its own. I don't know if I can still write it. I believe sometime soon I will try. I don't know what soon means, unfortunately.

I am one who loves. It is as simple as that. The beauty in the words, in my words, in its meaning, in their meaning, is profound. I love so very deeply. I don't know if it's understandable. I'm sure I want someone special to understand that. I don't know if I've met that person yet. I do know how I feel about that. I hope endlessly for it in the future.

I'm not sure if this is done. It doesn't feel complete. I don't think any amount of words could make it feel that way. But for this very moment, it is complete. I hope I return to it. It's very important to me. I want people to know. I don't know if I'll ever feel this way ever again. I'm sure I'll say more, at least to some people. I wish those people could be the ones about which my words will be concerned. But I know I can't say certain things to certain people. I don't want to end on a sad note, that doesn't seem fair. My life is not a sad note; I'm very appreciative of it, and now I'm happy more often than I am not. But right now it's important for me to be sad. I've had my whole life to express myself to others, and I've only done so in such a tiny amount here, and it may be the last. I can't help but wonder why and how it has all happened as it has. I'm trying to stick with a meaning for it all. It's evading me right now; I'm grabbing at wisps of the tendrils of smoke. But I know my hope is in there. All will never be lost. Have heart, dear one. I care for you, and that is all that matters for the moment. Maybe forever. I love you. Good night.

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