Friday, September 15, 2017

Eavesdropping



I had a conversation the other day, on the phone. I cried, and I said... revealed some inner thought while I did so.

Just so you know, I don't talk on the phone often, or cry. That was my second cry this year and probably the last.

And tonight while I was in the kitchen, I overheard a conversation in the hallway.

It made me highly suspicious that someone who understood that conversation -  my conversation, could be living next door. I thought that tag expired, but if it is what is says, then, well, I guess there is no avoiding it in foreseeable future.

The "eavesdropping" is not for me, it's for them. About them. Do you hear about people revealing their innermost thoughts to strangers when randomly "striking up conversation" as they call it? Because they think strangers don't know shit and won't do anything because they are just outlets, unattached. I don't feel that way. I feel more than a little iffy knowing anyone besides the select few know what I really really think.

Because your innermost thought, it's never a bunch of things, or complex. It's always simple, few, plain, strong. Yet they explain everything. They tell everything about who you are. They speak to your fear, your insecurity, your desires. Just a few simple sentences. All your secrets are not secrets anymore. Your motives, your purpose in life, everything, everything, everything is showing. I doubt anybody ever lays themselves so bare in word.

Yet I have. It's done. The idea that somebody next door has a grasp on my deepest, innermost fundamentals makes me... I don't even have a word for it.

And they're going about their daily life just as normal, just comfortable with the fact as they're comfortable with any other fact. Trivial.

I don't see a single positive from this, but I have to say luckily, not all of me was revealed. I said something that's always on my mind as an ordinary human being. It's nothing unique, in fact rather opposite. Only I noticed it doesn't affect others psychologically that much. which is why it was such a big deal.

In the Greater scheme of things, it doesn't matter if anyone knows that. It's not a secret, and how it affects me as a person doesn't change anything. This is a personal issue, that's all.

I'm glad I don't have a habit of discussing anything buried deeper in my head. It stays buried. There is no other way, anyhow.


If it's the truth, why does it feel so dark and ugly?

Because the truth is dark and ugly sometimes, I suppose.

Just like you can say orange is beautiful, blue is ugly. It's the connotations we attach to them. It's my perspective. It's my position. It's my experience and thinking.

I know.


























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