The past few days were awful, if you couldn't tell by my posts. Not only am I dealing with my hell, I've had to deal with a friend in Tulsa's. He treats the people who love him like shit, and only garners more people lining up around the block to be with him. He's got the whole world eating from his hand; he has friends who won't give up on him, women hanging all over him, and abuses everyone who lets him lean a little more. Sometimes it seems to me the lesson I've got to learn is to treat the people around me like crap; perhaps then, things will turn around. The people who beat me get ahead and find happiness. I can't find it in myself to ignore my friends in their hours of need; it seems like the nicer and more considerate I am, the more people take me for granted, and the less they want to even be around me. I will scream, I will fall, and I will contend that I'm not mute, no matter how much I'm ignored, or how little people want to hear about it.
Do you hear me, Brick Wall? I'm sorry I don't ignore you. I'm sorry I never lied to you to get at your soft spots. I'm sorry I never beat you until you curled up in a ball and learned to just take it. I'm sorry I never let you beg for my attention while I ignore you, and treat you like you don't exist for months on end. I'm sorry I never took advantage of you. And I'm sorry I never berated you just to get my jollies.
I'll probably always be here for you to abuse. Tell me how much you love me, and tell me how much you want to be my friend. Lie your ass off, and pretend I'm too stupid to notice. Take yourself to the ninth circle, and I'll keep myself here in the seventh. Virgil won't be my guide; I'm too close to Petrarch. Trust me, we can all see from without what is obvious from within. "Cercar no so ch'amor non venga sempre, ragionando con mio et io con lui." That puts it nicely for Petrarch and Laura, but we all know how best to lie to me.
Maybe I would be more compelling if I were to be cruel. It works for my friend in Tulsa. Tell me how to mistreat you; I know I can be mean, too. This monster of me lives in deep water, and my demons don't sleep.
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If Jacob is renamed Israel for Struggles with God, perhaps I should only be whispered for struggles with words.
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2 comments:
Self-absorbed weaklings usually do.
maybe i am being unkind in my assumption that prester is referring to our blogger with his nebulous comment about self-absorption... if so, i apologize. but if not... prester should try a few years swimming in a vat of acid, and then see how weak and self-absorbed he is. of course this is hyperbole. but the point is, given enough intense and prolonged suffering, anyone will focus on that pain and the questions it raises: why me? what causes it? can i escape it? how can i live? and if the answers are not forthcoming, or if they are not happy answers...
at any rate, before we mock one who is in deep pain day by day, we should first try to be grateful that we do not share that fate... and then we should try to be compassionate and understanding. this takes strength of soul. to drive by and spit at another's suffering? all that takes is a petty coward who is barely worth the skin that contains him.
again, prester, i hope that i am not describing you here. your comment could just as well refer to thomas' supposed friend. if so, i laud your insight and beg your forgiveness.
peace
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