I was recently asked, from someone that I am not all that close with and don’t really see as a friend as I do an acquaintance, for advice. She was scared, and I believe ashamed, to ask her friends for advice on the matter and she thought she could confide in me because she knew that as a boy, that doesn’t think like the majority, I would hit on her. Yes, that’s very true so I had no qualms with it and we had a pow-wow and talked about it. It’s a subject matter that I won’t disclose because it’s not something to share about, just I’ve had a close relationship with the situation and I understand why she was scared and ashamed. But as we sat there and talked, and as I spoke sincerely on the matter and held her hand and gave her hugs, I realized how deceptive I can be.

Why must we always live up to a pretense of being kind and sincere? It’s not to say I didn’t want to be, because I didn’t mind it at all and was sort of honored but I just hated myself as I spoke. I was very motherly and the words I spoke sounded like they should’ve come from someone at least twice my age, and I pondered on the thought of whether this was wisdom that I’ve acquired or if it was wisdom I was plagiarizing. I would like to think it’s a mixture of both because I don’t believe someone could plagiarize sincerely on the spot. I mean, the words came out of my mouth before I could even think of them completely. But as I said, I hated myself; I wanted to punch myself in the face, that’s how angry I was.

We are raised to be kind and treat others like you want to be treated, and so we build this pretense and expectation for ourselves and others that more than not, leaves us disappointed. But all my life since 8th grade, I’ve made it a priority to be kind and sincere and live up to an old saying that I only recently learned, “Primum non nocere” which translates to “First, do no harm…” And combined, the two priorities have made me yield to others and believe that by helping others, I am helping myself because it makes me happy. But I have forgotten that I have my own needs that I have to accomplish and meet, that I have problems and issues that I need to get sorted, and the thing that scares me the most is that I simply cannot. Not because I am afraid but because there is not a lot of people that I can trust completely and give up my mind and soul in order to let them touch my inner self. I am so afraid of letting myself become that vunerable. It’s not only finding someone that I trust, but someone that has experienced what I have experienced…which narrows down the list to almost no one.

I’ve written entries like this many times before and I’m so tired of having to write them because all it is is “talk talk talk” instead of me “doing” something. I wish it was something easy to do, because I hate coming across as if I don’t care or that I’m an asshole. It’s not something I’ve integrated into my list of traits, at least I don’t think I have, but with tech week and just several months of getting to know people, I’m sick and tired. NOT in the sense of I’m sick of this toy, let’s buy another- but in the sense that I see how they behave and act and don’t want them in my collection of acquintances.

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Why do girls feel the need to tell people that they’ve over someone when they’re not. And I should rephrase that and say why do people feel the need to tell people that they’re over someone when they’re not? I’m including myself, as I’m saying that now and Barrias feels the need to correct me and it gets on my nerves because I know it’s true but I’m trying my hardest to make it so that I don’t get infuriated by it. Is it a defense that we do? To protect ourselves?

I believe it’s the psychological process, what the proper name is I have forgotten, but the process in which a person repeats a lie so often that it becomes a truth to them. (Which reminds me, I first learned about this process in 10th grade when I performed the Crucible, which I’m currently reading for school). It’s a sad truth. So I’ll admit it now that I’m not over that boy, and it does infuriate and possibly drive me to losing my controlled consciousness when I think of it. But I’m moving to get over him because I see that there will be no good in a relationship with one another, we might be similar and be attracted physically, but our minds are different in terms of entertainment and society.

For some reason I feel like I’m acting out the character of Catherine from Wuthering Heights

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Soft, gentle, euphony. Beautiful splendid lovers. Dance, slow waltz. Hands crossed, eyes locked. White dress and a green suit. Flirting innocently with no motives, soft kiss. Recoil and shock. Despair in hope, Hope in despair. Spinning, twirling, spiraling. We’re in love. Follow the lights, live happy. Falling through the sky, holding one another. Regret and sorrow, darkness. Prairie, all alone. Sorry, fall asleep. Kiss on the head, don’t leave, say goodbye. I’m sorry, okay. I love him each day.

Things that came to me as I listened to a song, it was for art class.