Where does that leave us, then?

It's kind of weird. I've been Writing About Myself On The Interwebs (as would be an appropriate way of putting it) for going on six years. In that time, I've met and spoken to some really lovely people -- people I'm glad to have met, or was glad to have in my life at some point.

I was going through my 'friends list' on LiveJournal and I realised I couldn't remember one girl's name. Going back through my files, I'm not sure we ever exchanged names.

Sometimes you have to wonder if heartbreak is ever worth it. Not just the 'romantic' type, either. The absolute devastation when you realise after a while that certain friends have outgrown you, or you've outgrown certain friends. This, I think, is one of the few things that really scares me. And it doesn't truly matter how old you are, or how long you've known each other when you've grown apart from someone... sometimes things just don't 'work out' the way you want them to. Sometimes it's best to let go of those people -- those emotions -- and sort of grab a tighter hold on yourself. Not because you no longer like or love these friends, but because it's what's best for you... or because it's what's best for them.

Then you have to ask yourself whether you really did ever love that person or those people. You doubt yourself because you don't want to admit that you can stop loving someone because that means that someone could stop loving you. That's not a fun possibility. To look at it another way, there's the "love changes" concept. There's the idea that love itself is an energy which can neither be created nor destroyed, but which may change when acted upon.

There will be times when I'll have to make decisions based on what's right for others instead of what's right for myself. There will also be times I'll have to be selfish in order to grow up or move on or whatever it is that I'm trying to accomplish.

The big 'issue' with that, I suppose, is this: where do you draw the line? Where does 'taking care of yourself' become 'selfishness', and where does 'helping others' become 'running yourself ragged'? When did we start putting a price on helping people who need help? When did we start putting 'minimum donation' on charity? When did that start becoming necessary? Why are any of these questions relevant?

Idle hands are the devil's playground and idle talk is the devil's doing. That's my opinion. Idle "I love you"s when you don't mean it at all, or talk for the sake of talk. Gossip and all of those nasty habits we learn from age-whatever don't ever help us. To me, that seems to be why we rely so much on technology. While the internet is so open and like a great big ocean of death and ruined reputations, everyone's here and everyone is technically anonymous. We can trash-talk our best friends and no one is going to say anything because it's none of their business, but then it's still everyone's business.

Something to ask people when you get the "it's not you, it's me" talk (or the "it's really you, it's definitely not me" talk), is "So what would you like to do about this?". If you honestly love someone, fight for them. You'd want someone to fight for you, so fight for those you love.

Stranger's Perspective

Sometimes, it's difficult to view yourself from a stranger's perspective. Oftentimes, the reason is arrogance, or a "don't judge me" attitude. I usually look inwards, at what I think I'm doing, or where I think I'm going, or at what I can (or, likely, should) change about myself. It's "omg so hard!" to switch that perspective because you're so close to yourself (if that makes sense).

The best way for me to describe it would be for an artist to look at a piece of art. Whether you're a writer, painter, sculptor, musician... anything... you're always blind to your work. It doesn't matter how many people love it because you may think it's absolute rubbish. Conversely, you may defend your work with more voracity than you would another piece of work because it's your work. Do you see? You're 'too close' to the 'project'. In this case, the work of art is yourself.

Personally, I had a difficult time looking at myself honestly. I was never pretty enough, smart enough, or anything enough to suit me. I finally realised after years of angsting over myself that I was, in fact, pretty and -- if not actually 'smart' -- half-way intelligent. I had to convince myself that I was "good" enough to be happy. And that didn't bring me any sort of happiness, let me tell you internet.

Instead of feeling liberated, I felt naked. I felt wronged, in some way, because I had been so caught up on myself that I failed to see those around me, and how I affected them. This past year hasn't exactly been the best for personal relationships or familial relationships. I've lost more than I've gained. I won't say that it doesn't hurt, or doesn't make me sad. What I will say is that I have no regrets.

What is regret but wasted emotion? You spend all your time loving someone, making something, not loving someone, not making something... whatever it was that you were or weren't doing... and then you're expected to discount your actions to the point where you "regret". You can't change the past, but you can create a future. You can recognise what you did that wasn't on par with what you probably should have been doing, and you can learn from your past. That's what it's there for, that's why it's past. There's no use trying to change it. What happens, happens. Who are we to try to plaster those holes?

I talk about regret a lot. I talk about how wanting something else to have happened instead of what did is useless. Do I wish that things in my past hadn't happened? Absolutely. ("I wish that I'd listened to my maternal grandparents more before they passed away." "I wish that maybe I hadn't lacked the stoicity to be done with boys I've dated." "I wish that maybe I hadn't had that whole bottle of wine last night.") I'm sorry that things have happened the way they did. I'm sorry about a lot of stuff. I feel shamed about a lot of stuff, because it brings shame to my family, as well. But who I am, where I am, what I am... is all a product of my actions. And I'm in a pretty good place. It could be better, but without "better", what's the rest of your life for?


-

Sometimes, it feels like I put too much of myself out there. Sometimes it feels like not enough. Too much, because I have an overwhelming feeling of "being responsible" for others, and not enough because it still does no good. The only thing I can do for others is be there and keep them honest.

What is honesty, though? What does "keep them honest" mean? Is that supposed to mean that I stop people when they're talking and say "You're a lying liar who lies like a dog"? Or is that something more subtle? Is that an example others are supposed to follow?

It kind of reminds me of Carrot in the Discworld Series. He's got "bags of krisma" and personality and treats everyone "like they're jolly good chaps". In turn, even the most notorious of criminals in his city don't want to let Carrot down. Because CARROT is such a great guy.

What I think is that we should take this character and attempt to learn from his example. We should be fundamentally good people and be honest and kind and just good so that others will take that example and run with it.

That's the best way to keep people honest.


But what do I know? I'm a stranger.