Saturday, 24 October 2009


Honesty is on my mind.

I love people. And I love relationships with people. Not romantic necessarily. But intimacy, I think, makes love so much more than that accepting, non-judgemental, help you out if you're in need but leave it at the superficial, thing that it can be...or that it can be given as a name for. But for intimacy we have to be honest, because if, say, I go round censoring what I say, throwing out this image of myself into the world that I want people to see, acting perhaps not how I would if there were no expectations to live up to...if people like me, they don't. Not really. They like who I think they'd like me to be. Where's the satisfaction in that? Bar the self-congratulation of fooling everybody successfully for another day, reaping the esteem and acceptance of people as reward for a perpetual charade? I personally think we're all great actors sometimes.

I would love sometimes, for people to be truly honest. I would love for people to cry, just burst out, when they feel like rubbish. Instead of smiling. I would love, when people are happy, for them to sing. I would love a generation of people to stand up and say, "I don't have a clue what life is about, and it's scary". I would love an answering crowd to shout, "I think I've found what you're looking for". One in twelve students at UK colleges have suicidal thoughts. But everyone is so concerned about being just as normal as everyone else, that few say anything, and remain feeling alone and hopeless. Honesty threatens our pride, our reputations, but if people opened up, if people were real with each other, more things might happen. Real issues might get brought up. Real prayers might be prayed. Real lives might be changed. Real relationships and real love.

Or we could keep acting.

To quote Damian, "Like communism, it's a nice idea, but it's never going to work".

My heart lives in my mind. I'm that person who confesses undying love even when there's no hope of it being returned, because that's just how I feel. If I hear something horrific on the news, I'll cry at the radio, because if something breaks your heart I say let it. React. This morning I watched a video of 2 baby ducks hatching from the same egg, and smiled for 10 minutes because it was just beautiful. The other day, I was sad, so I emptied all the coins out of my purse into my bag, walked around campus and pretended that I was a pirate and the jingling noise was my treasure. I smiled in my mind. I also said "arr" when got bumped into in the shop, and this made me smile out loud, but luckily they didn't know why...because honesty is good but I don't want people thinking I'm mad now. I have my limits. I won't tell people when I'm really sad. I won't tell people when I feel miles from God. Even now, I'm thinking how I don't want people to know that these things even occur in my life- should I delete the last sentence? Crazy.

I don't know what the solution is really.

I'm relatively happy today, to be [truly] honest. My head really hurts though. Ouh.

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