Guilt

Guilt is a disgustingly funny thing. Sometimes, it is so opposite of humorous that we must laugh, even though we hate ourselves for it.

It is such a dreadful, egregious, heavy emotion, one that weighs down our shoulders over time until our feet drag on the sidewalks, our shoulders touch our knees from the disfiguring effect of bearing such an emotion.

Guilt is used as a tool of manipulation by others. However unkind, it is common knowledge, and practice, to use it as such. What we fail to realize, however, is that we are more often manipulated by ourselves than those around us. How often do we see a statement and worry whether it was meant to make us feel at fault for an action, when in reality it was a joking comment? And, playing the other side, how often do we see pleas for help from ones we have wronged, and brush off our shoulders, feeling nothing? You cannot feel guilty unless you care, theoretically.

So that leaves the question, is your guilt proportionate to how much compassion you hold toward another? If you hardly know the person you have hurt, will you hurt more or less when you realize what you have done than if the same crime were against someone you love with all of your heart? Some would argue that you would feel more for the one you know less, for example, because you have small chance to make recompense. But say you hurt the person you love with all of your heart, and not just once, but in the same way over and over, only to be forgiven every time? How long would you haunt yourself until you let it go? Do you have to wait for their forgiveness in order to for you to forgive yourself, and if they do so repeatedly, how do you compensate for their continuous faith in your relationship? The answer is usually simple. Time, work. It is simple, but not easy, and can only be implemented as long as the second party remains close enough to feel the effect.

Sometimes it is easy to forgive and forget, to hope that someone will eventually forgive you for inconveniencing them. Then again, sometimes when we should forgive and forget, our unending enemy, pride, will not let us merely let go and move on. Instead, we hold on all the more firmly to the frayed threads we still have and allow ourselves some reason to be unhappy. This being said, is there ever really evidence that another person guilts us any more than we guilt ourselves? Can we only be beguiled into negative feelings if there are any to be brought to shore? Food for thought.

Unfortunate Strangers.

What do you do when you realize someone you have held as a dear friend for quite some time is actually a complete stranger? When you thought you knew so much about them, but you start to pay attention, and you realize you mean very little in that person's life?

I am someone who likes to know people up close and personal style. I believe that true friendship lies in the ability to confide with another. But not everyone is willing to dish out their lives' 'black lagoons' to just anyone. Especially not me. I don't like to tell people about my personal life, especially my love life. It makes me very uncomfortable to talk about myself in any other way than just shallow small talk. There are very few people in which I confide more than that, and only one person who I have ever told everything, but people tell me things. I tend to be the one people come to for advice, to blow off steam, to get a hug. Or, I used to be.

These days I find myself becoming more and more of a stranger to those friends I used to hold dear. My two best friends are now some of the people to which I talk the most seldom. I'm still the advice-girl, but not nearly as often, and not on such a personal basis.

I'm beginning to think that my being so closed-off to the people around me is causing me to give up chances for close connections. The phrase, "Once burned, twice weary" seems to be a dominant phrase in my lifestyle. I'm not fake, I don't pretend to have everything perfect and California-Sunshine happy 100% of the time, but I just refrain from telling people about my life. I don't talk about home to many people, I rarely talk about boys with my girlfriends, and even then it's usually about their boys, not mine. I don't like expressing my true feelings on many topics, because I feel that it is unnecessary and irrelevant, and that usually, people wouldn't understand. I seem to think differently than my peers for some reason.

But apart from being closed-off, what happens when you think you're close to someone, and then find out that you really have no idea what they have going on in their lives anymore? If they are moving in a different direction completely, is it okay to keep holding onto threads to try and stay involved with their lives, when really you are no longer a prominent part, or do you let them drift away, and try to stop being jealous of all of the individuals that now hold more importance than you? It is so difficult to grasp at straws when you feel like you have no place to do so, and no effect when you do.

Which is better, letting them go even though you care more than you would like to admit, or holding on when the going gets tough?

“Thing I Wrote About You” number two million and one.

Written July 10, 2010.

“Thing I Wrote About You” number two million and one.

I hate the fact I love you

I hate the fact I care

I hate that when I start to dream,

Your face is always there

I detest how I forgive you

Every time you make me frown

I hate how every time you smile

My world turns upside down

I despise how every single touch

Makes my stomach turn in flips

And I hate how when you’re near me

My heart just starts to kick

I hate how you apologize

Without even using words

And I really hate how what you meant

Is never what I heard.

I’m sick of you describing to me

Why I’m not for you,

But how I always stick around

Because it’s all that I can do.

I loved it when you loved me.

But then you took it back.

And I hate how just one envelope

Could hold such an attack.

I’m terrified of losing you,

Of pushing you away,

And I’m mortified that loving you

Gets harder every day.

I hate how much I needed you

To help me to move on,

And when it came right down to it,

How I wanted you all along.

I hate how when you say hello

I dread for the goodbye.

I hate how, when I’m with you,

The minutes always fly.

I hate how there is nothing that,

For you, I wouldn’t do.

And I hate the fact it took this long

For me to fall for you.

Those not blessed with copious amounts of intelligence.

Okay, so typically I'm a pretty nice person. I like to give people the benefit of the doubt, I see things for the majority in a very positive light. I do my best to be patient, controlled, and neutral. But there's one specific thing that makes me break.

Stupid People.

It's that kind of person that refuses to use their frontal lobe, or any other part of their brain, to help them sound like they have an IQ score higher than 2. That kind of idiot person who you have to practically glue your mouth shut in order to not rip them to shreds and come off as a total B****. And especially, ESPECIALLY when you have to show them respect.

I have had an excessive amount of encounters with people of this mold in the past week. Let me tell you some of my recent, more major, stories. There are too many small ones to record, but I'll give you the good ones.

Last Saturday, my buddy, Isaac, and I were going to Brittney and Gage's apartment down in Midvale to see their 'new' big-screen TV. Which is actually kinda old-school because they bought at DI, but it works, and it was supposedly pretty cheap, so that makes it cool. :) But that's irrelevant. We were approaching the freeway on-ramp, our left-turn light was green. So was the go-straight light. We were in the right-hand left-turn lane, right next to the straight lane. There were two or three cars right behind us, at least. The guy right next to us in the go-straight lane, in a suburban, decided that he didn't want to be in the go-straight lane. IN THE MIDDLE OF THE INTERSECTION. And I'm not kidding, he was right next to us. So he paralleled us all the way to the ramp in a non-existent turn lane and wouldn't slow down so we could pass him, so Isaac had to hit the brakes so this guy could cut us off from his illegal left turn, which made the guy behind us angry, and he honked at us. Isaac's response was, "I know, buddy. I know." Great. Seriously, that was the dumbest driver move I think I've ever seen. I was somewhat afraid for my life. At least you know the dumb driver probably feels bad.

So Wednesday I'm sitting in English and we're doing presentations on the research papers we just finished. We had to do a powerpoint or a poster. So this girl, I don't know her name, goes up. She had done her report on Hitler's league of pilots in WWII. It was the something-"legion." But I'm pretty sure this girl has no idea what a legion is. She didn't seem to know that the word meant something other than part of then name. And in addition, when the slide came up, instead of saying the something-"legion" she pronounced it "La-gon." It wasn't confidently, either. More of a "llll-uhh... la-gonnnn."

Copy-and-paste project? I think so.

There were a few other idiocies like that the same class period. My generation, it seems, never learned to read. This is a SENIORS class. Meaning 17-18-year-olds make up the entire roll. And this is level of stupidity is common in my class. SERIOUSLY?! It takes a special breed.

Ok, you know how everyone has an experience with a stupid boss? That happens regularly with me. Yesterday I pulled into the sweeper parking spots behind the school where I work. Usually, my supervisor, Eileen, takes the first spot, but her car wasn't there, so I just took it because it was the closest one that was free. I just figured she wasn't closing today or something. Turns out she was just on her lunch break.

So later, one of my co-workers came up to me and said, "Uh... Eileen parked behind your car. Just so you know." Well, Eileen does strange things. She's into her higher seventies and is fairly senile. I decided I'd nicely ask her to move it after I finished. I had to leave early for Young Ambassador's anyway. Later, Eileen came up to me and said, "Oh, I parked behind your car! I'll move it for you!" Apparently, I was in her spot, heaven forbid, since the parking spot is not labeled as hers I assumed it was fair game. I'm a sinner, what can I say? I said ok, whatever. Don't know why you didn't just park elsewhere in the first place, but that works. cool. Kept working. About an hour later, I pulled my cart up to the supply closet to start detail. Eileen came up again. "Oh, I've been trying to keep tabs on you so I can move my car when you're done! Are you ready for me?" No, Eileen. I have detail to do. My route doesn't end for another hour and fifteen minutes. But I thought you already moved it? Sigh. Ok. So I told her I'd let her know when I was done so she could move it. About twenty minutes later, same thing happened. Apparently even though I'd promised to let her know, she was still keeping track of where I was. Eye roll. Still going.

Later, when I was getting closer to the end of my route, starting to clean, etc., she decided that I was done. Didn't wait for me to tell her I was, she just assumed it was time. Even though it was at LEAST 15 minutes before I told her I'd be done. she went out and moved her car. Except she didn't move it and re-park. She pulled it backward with enough room for me to move mine out, and sat there with her car running. Well, I still had a good five, ten minutes worth of things to do. I had to clean, take out the trash, sign out, grab my sweater. I admit, I mozied a little to see if she was going to give up or just sit out there. Went and took the trash out... there she sat. Juuuuust waiting. Went and got my sweater, slowly signed out, talked to a co-worker for a minute... still waiting. This is appx. 7 minutes after she had pulled out. So I went out to my car, which was one of two cars parked in our space, where there are about 6 parking spots. The four parking spots directly to the left of my car were vacant and altogether extremely accessible. But Eileen was still sitting, car running, next to the curb waiting for me to pull my car out of the lot. As soon as I reversed and drove far enough to leave her open space enough to drive in, she pulled forward into the spot. Meet Eileen, the 70-year-old second grader.

Like I said. This has been a very interesting week. Please, everyone. PLEASE use your common sense, and do not be like these people. Use your acquired intelligence and engage the functions of the frontal lobe. Thanks. :)

The Cycle

The Cycle

Feeling so dark,

like a knife through the heart,

I fight to keep my pulse to stay alive.

Can’t come to my senses,

My mind blocked by fences,

I’ve trapped myself with barriers inside.

The arguments, the fights

The same dreams every night,

That change so much they almost have me fooled

Till I recognize the trend,

Caused by cravings without end,

Inside my mind the turmoil overrules.

The cycle rolls,

It never folds

It comes round time and time again.

Love, hesitation,

despite the reputation

then hate, and guilt for how childish I have been.

Every path, all directions

Both right and wrong with insurrection

Guide me down a path away from him.

I fight with bare hands,

Like claws in the sand,

But no progress made t’wards where he lets me in.

Pain becomes tradition

Confusion constant my position

Always hiding from the next day’s dawn.

But love doesn’t care,

So our hearts never dare.

We can’t fight, we take it as it comes along.

Misery's Lullabye

Misery’s Lullaby

Sleep, sleep, cry, cry,

My nightmares sing my lullaby.

Dream of monsters,

Of saying goodbye,

You’ll feel the terror passing nigh.

Worry, worry, scream, scream,

I hear the dying lovers sing.

An afterthought,

A latent sting

Inside my haunted soul doth ring.

Stoop, stoop, drowned, drowned,

Beneath the sobbing clouds I’m found.

Chasing the distance

While running in round

Defying my fate while keeping it sound.

Circle, circle, flee, flee,

The broken shape my destiny.

I live inside

To set them free

From screeching torment, agony.

Live, live, be, be,

Enlist your trusty apathy.

A hole in your heart

Will make you see

That life is them, repaired by me.

Electricity

Electricity

Tonight you hold me in your arms

The occasion’s rarity resounds.

I feel your heart beat, your kiss so warm

And I can’t help how my heart pounds

Your fingers’ touch an electric pulse

Dancing hot and golden through my veins

Where your lingering hands pass o’er my skin

A molten heart alone remains.

Every breath from you intoxicates

An addictive drug I can’t conceive

Every ounce of will power you can break

By no more than the air you breathe.

A passion burning platinum bright

Assumes the place that held my heart

An internal battle, a bloody fight

Keeps sanity and need apart

You shielded me from the outside world

And in entirety my entity stole

A boundless joy to be left unfurled

And doubt has gone and left me whole.

A crushing want so powerful

I can’t help but give in, concede.

What’s the point of an iron will

When my Kryptonite is all I need?

Anima Seduxerit

I can’t reach the top, and I’m giving up slowly
I’ve never felt farther from reaching the ledge
Covered in scratches and bruises from climbing
My body on fire, my skin is rubbed red.

And I know, I know
That I’m waiting for a rescue
A hope that’s in vain is kindled in me
I know they’ll never save me, I got myself here
But no one ever said you can’t lie yourself free.

I’m feet below the edge and clinging to the side

If I let go now I know I’ll fall back down
But the rocks from the cliff, they cut my hands,
And I have nowhere to hide
I bleed, but don’t release. I’ve got to hold my ground.
This stone is my savior. It is my last breath.
My severed soul holds me from falling to death.

My fingers slip. This suicide is tempting
But I know if I fall back to you, you’ll never let me live
Sometimes I think I should give up my life
Because love to me is something you won’t give

And I know, I know
That you won’t believe when I tell you
That I’m still in love with you, and it’s killing me now.
I’m still addicted, the withdrawals drain my strength
But I have to recover. So I stay away somehow.

I’m feet below the edge and clinging to the side
If I let go now I know I’ll fall back down
But the rocks from the cliff, they cut my hands,
And I have nowhere to hide
I bleed, but don’t release. I’ve got to hold my ground.
This stone is my savior. It is my last breath.
My severed soul holds me from falling to death.

All the battle wounds because of you
I hardly recognize me
You turned me into something that I hate.
And still I cannot see you
As an enemy beside me
By giving in to you, I let my heart tempt fate
And my soul screams out loud for you.
Holding on is the hardest thing to do.

I’m feet below the edge and clinging to the side
If I let go now I know I’ll fall back down
But the rocks from the cliff, they cut my hands,
And I have nowhere to hide
I bleed, but don’t release. I’ve got to hold my ground.
This stone is my savior. It is my last breath.
My severed soul holds me from falling to death.