fallen1carus

i've been struck lately again and again at the consistent insincerity of our daily interactions.

i scan rooms, looking at people. at how they're dressed, the way they look at each other. what are their problems like? what things do they reveal to their friends? what do they really want to do that for one reason or another they are holding back on?

or are they satisfied just the way things are?

in uncomfortable silences, are the fates of relationships being decided?

if i really listened to what they had to say, how they really felt, would i even care? maybe innermost secrets are fucking boring when you get down to it.

i want to start listening... and i want to be more sincere.

every day several people ask me "how are you?" sometimes i tell the truth in part, sometimes i lie completely. sometimes feelings can't be defined by the constraints of words.

how do you explain something to someone when there are no words for the emotion? when it's something you've never felt before?

i feel like so much of our lives is guided by fear... the fear that if we tell the truth to the best of our ability, that we won't be liked. or worse yet, be laughed at. because maybe everyone else does get along fine and this kind of confusion is just ridiculous. maybe they've got it all together.

or maybe everyone is lying. there are so many people in this world, in order for things to stay orderly, our interactions are brief, and trite. we perform the necessary functions, to do tasks, to make money... as quickly and efficiently as possible. but what if that process consumes what we really feel and this efficiency becomes everything that we do?

i think we could forget what it's like to be real.
i often wish for complete chaos.
some armageddon or natural disaster to put things into perspective. a breaking point.