I feel that need, yet again, to reevaluate things in my life. Prioritize. Assess.
Fuck I hate these moments. I hate meeting people sometimes, other times I just plain hate people. They complicate things, they confuse you. Act like a friend for years then turn around and stab you right in the chest, knowing full well what line they cross.
They talk out of pure ignorance, living in that very same way. Sitting at their bar stool or at the table, taking a seat on the couch of my own home. Looking at their world deciding that that is THE world. What they read and hear becomes unquestionable truth, what they analyze through their already bias eyes is their proof.
Their fears annoy me even further, finding some sort of rationality to fit what they think to be wrong. Dare to say they honestly believe they know "x" amount, that "y" what they don't know is small, and "z" what they fear is entirely normal to all. That their fears should be everyone else's fears, and that they should be the only fears. That what they perceive as real is what they impose on everyone else, what everyone else SHOULD be, how the world SHOULD be.
Yet their fears are so obvious, fear of any sort of change in their lives. They become so comfortable with the simple things I have given up on so long ago, then look at me as something less. Like I'm the problem, that their way is salvation from my random wandering, trying to decide what my life is. How is it they cannot see beyond their own reach, like everything in the world must be agnostic. Everything has to be proven against their opinions, or else it isn't true at all. Not even close.
Worse yet, when you find people who have the capacity to be true friends, but just don't. Whether or not they just do not accept, or put forth an effort to try to accept what they cannot comprehend. When these true friends suddenly find a dark corner in your life, and feel content staying there, coming out every once in awhile to say a couple phrases, or look to you for some sort of crutch.
Maybe it's that I never turn them down that they keep using me like this. Maybe I'm just another person to add to their buddy list, to satisfy their own personal quest for some twisted sense of popularity and acceptance. Making me just another page in a book they can shelve so easily. No hesitation, like the shelf already had my name on it.
Why is it I could tell a million stories of the devil to people, and they can just turn and forget about me in seconds. Like a legitimate fear is not. They seem perfectly happy throwing their opinions my way, using what they have seen on tv or heard from an anonymous third or fourth or twelfth person source, volley after volley of pure gossip chain bullshit. Yet when they hear some truth, when they hear the first person experience, they cast it aside, simply because it is not what they thought.
They build walls for lies so high they cannot remember how to survive without them. They have blocked off the doors out, and sealed the windows to look in. This is the case, so why would they even act like there is something I could say that they would even take into consideration. Are they programmed at this point to appear kind? Is it just what they, as human, are supposed to do, so they fake it?
With everyone faking their interests and me faking myself, when will there ever be any truth? Will the truth, whenever I find it, be a truth I share?
Should I cast them out, and search, yet again, for those with a mind larger than their eyes? Or should I settle of something less than ideal?
Fuck I hate these moments. I hate meeting people sometimes, other times I just plain hate people. They complicate things, they confuse you. Act like a friend for years then turn around and stab you right in the chest, knowing full well what line they cross.
They talk out of pure ignorance, living in that very same way. Sitting at their bar stool or at the table, taking a seat on the couch of my own home. Looking at their world deciding that that is THE world. What they read and hear becomes unquestionable truth, what they analyze through their already bias eyes is their proof.
Their fears annoy me even further, finding some sort of rationality to fit what they think to be wrong. Dare to say they honestly believe they know "x" amount, that "y" what they don't know is small, and "z" what they fear is entirely normal to all. That their fears should be everyone else's fears, and that they should be the only fears. That what they perceive as real is what they impose on everyone else, what everyone else SHOULD be, how the world SHOULD be.
Yet their fears are so obvious, fear of any sort of change in their lives. They become so comfortable with the simple things I have given up on so long ago, then look at me as something less. Like I'm the problem, that their way is salvation from my random wandering, trying to decide what my life is. How is it they cannot see beyond their own reach, like everything in the world must be agnostic. Everything has to be proven against their opinions, or else it isn't true at all. Not even close.
Worse yet, when you find people who have the capacity to be true friends, but just don't. Whether or not they just do not accept, or put forth an effort to try to accept what they cannot comprehend. When these true friends suddenly find a dark corner in your life, and feel content staying there, coming out every once in awhile to say a couple phrases, or look to you for some sort of crutch.
Maybe it's that I never turn them down that they keep using me like this. Maybe I'm just another person to add to their buddy list, to satisfy their own personal quest for some twisted sense of popularity and acceptance. Making me just another page in a book they can shelve so easily. No hesitation, like the shelf already had my name on it.
Why is it I could tell a million stories of the devil to people, and they can just turn and forget about me in seconds. Like a legitimate fear is not. They seem perfectly happy throwing their opinions my way, using what they have seen on tv or heard from an anonymous third or fourth or twelfth person source, volley after volley of pure gossip chain bullshit. Yet when they hear some truth, when they hear the first person experience, they cast it aside, simply because it is not what they thought.
They build walls for lies so high they cannot remember how to survive without them. They have blocked off the doors out, and sealed the windows to look in. This is the case, so why would they even act like there is something I could say that they would even take into consideration. Are they programmed at this point to appear kind? Is it just what they, as human, are supposed to do, so they fake it?
With everyone faking their interests and me faking myself, when will there ever be any truth? Will the truth, whenever I find it, be a truth I share?
Should I cast them out, and search, yet again, for those with a mind larger than their eyes? Or should I settle of something less than ideal?
we're going bar hopping so i'm pretty sure the point is to "feed me drinks"