"From this hour I ordain myself loos'd of limits and imaginary lines, going where I list, my own master total and absolute, Listening to others, considering well what they say, Pausing, searching, receiving, contemplating, Gently, but with undeniable will, divesting myself of the holds that would hold me."
Walt Whitman (1819-92)
"When I look back now over my life and call to mind what I might have had simply for taking and did not take, my heart is like to break."
Akhenaton (d. c.1354 BC)
And now, the current weather, from some random person we pulled off the street:
Thursday, April 08, 2004
Bleeding All Over Myself
play Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English, from Old English plega; akin to Old English plegan to play, Middle Dutch pleyen
1 a : recreational activity; especially : the spontaneous activity of children b : absence of serious or harmful intent : JEST c : the act or an instance of playing on words or speech sounds
2 : what I can't take part in
Sometimes, life can suddenly turn around and surprise you with a hateful, wild bloodthirsty stare and then slice you from your throat to your intestines.
Well, maybe not you, but that's what happens to me. I can be merrily tripping along thinking everything is OK and in the space of an instant something will happen that throws into sharp relief the fact that I am somehow different from those around me, and they intend to treat me that way.
Play is when that hurts me the worst.
To me, being able to joke around with a person and just enjoy their company is a sign of acceptance. I remember when I was younger and my best friend "decorated" my car on my 16th birthday. I remember playing huge organized games in college (not sports, games, I'll go into that later, another post) and loving every minute of it.
I remember playing Dungeons and Dragons until all hours of the night and playing chess by email, playing some of the early BBS on-line games, and sitting on a beach in the Carribean playing Pictionary with coworkers.
I even remember when drinking and clubbing was a sort of game, one I participated in far too regularly for my own good.
But, in the now and the here, something has changed, and it feels like me.
This April Fools Day not a single person attempted to play a single trick on me, even though I played pranks on several. I just wasn't on the radar. There is only one person now outside of my immediate family who regularly forwards jokes, etc. to me.
I can't remember the last time anyone told me a joke.
I don't even have a best friend anymore.
I feel very, very cut off.
And all around me, life goes on. People joke and play and enjoy each other. And here I sit, as if I am in some sort of plexiglass tube, visible but ignored except as something to work around. I smile and wave and die inside.
I'm trapped.
And if it's me, then can I ever really escape?
If what is happening is universal, can it be anything else than me?
I just really feel, deep in my heart of hearts, that I have so much to offer beyond the bounds of my immediate family. I mean, lets be honest here, family has a sort of obligation to accept me. As long as I am not too extreme, things will go well. And usually I am good at that. But on the outside, when people have no vested interest in how they feel about me, that to me is the only place where I can place a true gauge.
By that gauge, I'm running cold.
Which breaks my heart.
I want to scream and shout "NO! Look at me! I am not what you THINK I am! I can joke and play and laugh and be a friend!!!"
But I can't.
I'm sitting here at my desk pretty much in tears. Time to get control back.
I'm cut and slashed in my spirit, and I bleed all over myself.
The worst sin toward our fellow creatures is not to hate them, but to be indifferent to them: that's the essense of inhumanity.
George Bernard Shaw (1856 - 1950), "The Devil's Disciple" (1901), act II
