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Wednesday, January 12, 2005
When I read, or think, or look around, unhappy people spring out. I want to help them. Every one, I want to reach an arm around and hug, until barriers between us rot open and the tidal wave of maggot-infested, dark thoughts spring into me and out of them.
Or at least, I think I do. How can I be sure? People around me suffer, and I feel myself disengaging with them. Why? For myself. Because I couldn't handle watching someone slip away, if I fail?
There's billions of people who could use someone. But how many can I throw myself out to? How many even want me? Not many.
I don't get it, really. And here, in the eternal cliché: why so much pain?
Why do I look at everyone complaining about everything? Boys, girls, looks, ability. They need someone who I could be, I'm sure. Which is what bugs me.
I can't be that great. There must be so many good people, latched onto someone they've chosen to help out. To experience something better. Or trying to help out several, reaching arms out everywhere.
Most of humanity must be good, right? Mustn't it?
Or at least, I think I do. How can I be sure? People around me suffer, and I feel myself disengaging with them. Why? For myself. Because I couldn't handle watching someone slip away, if I fail?
There's billions of people who could use someone. But how many can I throw myself out to? How many even want me? Not many.
I don't get it, really. And here, in the eternal cliché: why so much pain?
Why do I look at everyone complaining about everything? Boys, girls, looks, ability. They need someone who I could be, I'm sure. Which is what bugs me.
I can't be that great. There must be so many good people, latched onto someone they've chosen to help out. To experience something better. Or trying to help out several, reaching arms out everywhere.
Most of humanity must be good, right? Mustn't it?
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I feel like that sometimes, like there's too many people to help. Then I start feeling like nobody is willing to help me. I spent most of my teenage years trying to figure out why I was so mad at all my friends. Then I figured it out: I was giving them everything I had, and eventually I had nothing left to help myself. I don't know that people are essentially good, in fact I think that while people are not bad inately they are selfish. If you give them so much of your heart and concern they WILL eat you alive. I don't mean to sound negative, but I think it is the truth. That's why I started writing my blog. It allowed me to complain about all my stuff, because my "real life" friends wouldn't give me the time to let them know what was going on. It is such a fine line between having compassion and empathing for people and giving too much of yourself away. You'll figure it all out eventually. **Kisses**
People are always worth your time, and always need your help and to them you can be a great person. Just don't give everything you have you need to save some for yourself, you can't help everyone it will tear you apart, but having good friends you can help out is a start to being a better person :)
# posted by 
: 13 January 2005 at 18:18
: 13 January 2005 at 18:18
"Empathing"???? Hahahahaa... Was that some kind of bizarre spell-check thing? OR was I just being stupid. Whatever it was funny. Of course I meant "Empathy."
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