New Morning

This week and last week have been extremely stressful for me; I've been filled with a deep-growing frustration that has bled into other areas of my life and made me feel disgruntled and generally discontent. By yesterday it had started to wane, leaving me feeling the way someone who has just been beaten feels as the pain in their bones begins to wash away. Too few people in this world love each other. Too few people care about how other people feel. Art is dying, and nobody but me cares. I've been a bitch this week and don't deserve to be loved as much as I am. I'm just not as cool as the people around me. They can't honestly like me. It must all be fake. I hate things that are fake. These were the thoughts in my head. (NB I'm really not asking you guys for sympathy. That's not what this blog is about. "Pity-Me" posts make me want to puke, and besides, I'm past feeling like that now, anyway; I'm just telling you honestly how I felt.)

I had lunch with David Tay fourth period today and talked about egocentricism and stuff, and I realized that, no matter what some may say, people genuinely do care about each other. They really do. They love each other and do things just to make each other happy and they feel each other's pain and they forgive each other and they love each other truly and deeply and they try to remedy the injustice in the world. Some people screw up some times, and some people don't love as much as others or have as positive and effect as others, but I really do honestly believe that people have inherent goodness in them-- I want to call it original godliness but without the god bit-- does that make any sense? In Mexico they say "Dios es Amor"-- God is Love. Original loving-ness. I remember once during one of my bleaker breakdowns I cried and thought that I was so lost that I couldn't think of one thing that was solidly true of myself, and Harry asked me if I thought that, based on my own experiences, people were genuinely good at heart and I couldn't answer him. I think I've changed and I think I've grown a lot since eigth grade (reminder: I'm very young), even since last summer. I've always felt alone, and known that I can't ever be fully understood, and known that I won't ever tell everything about myself to anyone, but I'm starting to realize that-- this won't make any sense to you, but here goes-- that I can be alone with people. My little book-lined castle on a cloud can have neighbors and I can tell people enough about myself that hopefully, with a little intelligence, they can begin to understand me. I sit around analyzing people and trying to understand their motives, but I can't do it without involving my own motives and reflecting and projecting myself into my analises (sp). (That was a terrible metaphor. I'm sorry. I don't know how else to say what I mean.) It's like Othello; you can use the facts to arrive at any number of conclusions and never be wrong... and yet there are still far more wrong answers than right ones, and finding truth in it still takes measureless effort. But there is truth out there and it's worth the search. And the only one who can identify it for you is yourself, because (and this sounds more senseless than anything I've said so far) truth is relative. What's true of the world to one person isn't true to another; what's true one day isn't true another. And yet it's true, and real, and solid. I have trouble with solidity, I guess.

And another thing: Oona, dearest, I love you wholeheartedly but I disagree with you and Jera (who I think I've talked to maybe once... isn't that odd?). All men are not bad or inherently assholes. All relationships are not mostly pain. I know that there are only a few truly happy loving couples at our school who aren't sick of each other, and that happy relationships are somewhat rare, really, but they do exist and you can find them and make them work. The key is to find someone who you truly love who can love you back, and not to throw yourself on the rack if they can't. And as Zack the wise one would say, love brings out the best in us. I could argue that it also brings out the worst, because it's true, and that it can cause us more pain than anything else in the world; but the good truly, truly, truly outweighs the bad.
Honestly.

Right now I guess I'm just revelling in really honestly being loved and in leading a truly wonderful life filled with beautiful people and in having the ability to love people. And probably in hormone inbalances. But hey, I'm a teenager. I'm allowed to have mood swings and passionate emotions. And right now I couldn't care less what causes them, because whatever causes them is a part of me and a part of who I am, and what I feel and write is truth and is genuine like water and not false at all. I just want to love with all my heart and to be loved back.