BozoTheFish (sxyguitargrl) wrote,
BozoTheFish
sxyguitargrl

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Anyone But Me

Just about every time I am with more than one or two people I am reminded why I hate people with such a passion. I have found it entirely impossible to befriend more than two people without having friends with conflicting interests. Perhaps it's just the town, or just the age, or just the specific people with whom I am associated, but I feel trapped in a war of unspoken words and resentment. Unspoken, at least, to those the words really concern. The kind of resentment to which only a few are privy to at any given time, but to which I am always made aware of despite my efforts to ease the harsh feelings.

It is so hard to listen to those you care about speak unkindly about another one of your friends. Worse, that they have ignored your attempts to make them stop, if not completely, at least in your presence. All efforts have failed. All defenses have gone disregarded. The pains of last summer come back, pushing for the right thing to be done, yet I can't bring myself to willingly betray. Let the pieces fall where they may but I do not pretend to think I have the power to decide what anyone would think is the right thing to do. So I refrain from trying to change anything. It's not my place.

"I wish I was like you". I hate that more than anyone could ever know. I would be flattered if people knew what they were getting into making that statement to me, but people have no idea what "like me" entails. If you could only see . . . My friend often says how her life sucks, how she hates her life, etc., so I recently asked her "Well, if you hate your life so much, whose life would you rather have?". She replied, "Anyone's but mine". I asked her a simple question and that was the best she could come up with - anyone's. No thought put into it whatsoever, no specifics, no contemplation about what exactly makes her life "suck" so much that she wished she were someone else

I wish people knew what they were getting into, with me, with anyone. There is so much that you cannot even begin to conceive about people. There is no possible way one can understand the inner workings of anyone without being that person, even if one were to attempt to explain. I have tried to explain some things, but most people are less than willing to try to listen to what I am saying enough to understand how important what I am telling them is. Correction, most people are unwilling to listen, all people do not understand what I am saying, or at least refuse to understand in fear of damaging that perfect image they have conjured up in their head of me. All people but one. And I do not apologize for anything I have said, or given up on saying to others. We have shared our deepest darkest secrets, and although it has perhaps cast a slight shadow over our perspective of the other, it is our true selves. No mirages. No delusions. No images of perfection in danger of being destroyed by the truth. Other people say I never talk, at least not about what is bothering me, and the truth is, I do talk, just not in the way that anyone else does. I have said more than anyone has noticed, I have just talked less than they would have liked. I have tried to show them, to help them understand, but I don't think it will ever make sense to anyone, except for the only person I have found that has as much interest in the human condition as I do. And finding that in another has helped more than anyone could understand, and that connection, though shared by both parties, has also been misunderstood. It doesn't matter, though, and yet again I have given up on trying to explain, because what can I say? How exactly can I explain what has gone through my head the past year to the people I have been around, the people I have tried talking to in my own way, but who have failed to understand just how much deeper everything lies within myself than in the common teenager?

I understand myself, but it doesn't matter anymore. I still get the comments, how people want to be just like me, how I am so perfect, how I am good at everything I do. How can I explain that lie to anyone? How can I show the shadow that has been cast to anyone who is shallow enough not to take the time enough to learn about another person? I wouldn't want to be anyone else. I wouldn't want anyone else's life. It's not to say that I want to be myself, that I want my life, but that is not a choice we get to make. I've done what I can, but there's nothing to be done. And if none of this makes sense to anyone, I prove my point. If you can't recognize this as something someone you know might say, then you are disappointingly self-involved. Take the time to learn about your friends, your fellow classmates, anyone with which you come into contact. Devote the time you spend with people to listening, not only to what they say, but how they say it, and more importantly, what they don't say. Some of the most important issues with people remain silent within themselves, locked away, only for a special person to discover. If this makes perfect sense to you because you feel the same way, or at least you think you understand what I am trying to say and you feel that way, I prove another point. There are millions of teenagers out there wishing they wouldn't go on to live another day, dealing with the same issues you are, or with different issues that have the same effect on them. Yet, there you are, wishing you had their life .
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