I want so badly to be able to come to a certain realization about my life and existence to to be able to act accordingly in an enlightened fashion. I want to live a life that does not forget the things I come to know. But I've too often forgotten the things I find to be true about this world. So I lose my place and have to be reminded again of these thoughts. A pitiful cycle of remission into the cancer of my existence. Why can't I be the person I want to be? Why am I so incapable of controlling my own mind and thoughts? Why does my existence scare me?
Saturday, May 31, 2014
Master Harold
I realize that there was a reason why the play "Master Harold ... and the boys" had such a profound impact on me. It's not just the fact that it addressed discrimination in such a powerful manner; it's that I felt an odd connection to Hally. I know that he is the juvenile, disappointing character of the play but I feel as if the struggles that he goes through as an individual mirror mine. The idea of oscillating between hope and despair for this world, I understand that concept intimately. The fact that Hally has these moments of clarity in which be sees the world only to revert back to bus superficial and juvenile self ... I find myself in the position all the time.
Critical
I made some decisions recently that I don't really know if I regret yet. At the moment, I just feel angry. Angry at those who can't see past my actions, angry at myself for putting myself in this position, angry that the world is the way it is. It's ridiculous quite honestly to hold such negativity regarding things I can't change. So I lash out. And I point fingers. I am still a child.
It's a horrible feeling. Being betrayed. I can almost feel the knives that are stuck between my ribs from behind. I can't comprehend why that person would do this to me. They might claim it was for my benefit and for my own good. But how can hurting me like this lead to any good? How can you claim that your intention was not tinged with jealousy and spite when you obviously knew the outcome would leave me bleeding?
It's an even more horrible feeling to know that one act could have alienated you from the people you know and love. How can she say that it was selfish? What right does she have to judge me? I admit my fault in it all but apparently she has done no wrong. Of course. It makes sense with her impregnable morality and goodness. And I am left as the sole perpetrator. The one who has ruined everything. The ungrateful bastard who only thinks about herself.
It's funny how the same things are said to the people who contemplate the proximity of their own death. Of course it is selfish of them to take life in their own hands. What of the living left behind? What of the people who will mourn? Isn't it just as selfish to ask a person in that much pain to love another day in their stifling skin just so those who can be happy can remain so? What obligation do we have to others when we cannot even fulfill our obligations to ourself?
But in the end, apparently we are expected to live for others. Our lives are not our own to do as we please. We are born in chains as a wise man once said. Impenetrable. And in the end we are the villains to everyone else's story.
It's a horrible feeling. Being betrayed. I can almost feel the knives that are stuck between my ribs from behind. I can't comprehend why that person would do this to me. They might claim it was for my benefit and for my own good. But how can hurting me like this lead to any good? How can you claim that your intention was not tinged with jealousy and spite when you obviously knew the outcome would leave me bleeding?
It's an even more horrible feeling to know that one act could have alienated you from the people you know and love. How can she say that it was selfish? What right does she have to judge me? I admit my fault in it all but apparently she has done no wrong. Of course. It makes sense with her impregnable morality and goodness. And I am left as the sole perpetrator. The one who has ruined everything. The ungrateful bastard who only thinks about herself.
It's funny how the same things are said to the people who contemplate the proximity of their own death. Of course it is selfish of them to take life in their own hands. What of the living left behind? What of the people who will mourn? Isn't it just as selfish to ask a person in that much pain to love another day in their stifling skin just so those who can be happy can remain so? What obligation do we have to others when we cannot even fulfill our obligations to ourself?
But in the end, apparently we are expected to live for others. Our lives are not our own to do as we please. We are born in chains as a wise man once said. Impenetrable. And in the end we are the villains to everyone else's story.
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