Kiss From A Rose

[indicates later notes or additions.]

It's rare that I'm able to be completely honest these days. I have felt the lack of freedom to say... when back before, I was so afraid to do so before. Perhaps I am still afraid. This is likely, but I cannot say which.

Even though I seem to have more honesty and self-awareness than just about anyone else I have ever seen (I could be wrong or biased, due to introversion, but it is nevertheless at least above average), I also have a need to talk. And yet, I have to be careful constantly. People can take what others say personally. I know that I am the most likely to do this, no matter what I wish. I am rather convinced that I have a psychological problem.

Nevertheless, problems must merely be overcome.

I have enough people listening to me, but they do not actually listen. Some do, some do not. Some cannot. Some dismiss what they hear, but listen for politeness' sake.

I am being forced to learn and... well, no one is forcing me. I am forcing, pushing myself. I push myself. I don't know who else is also, considering that I'm too busy considering that people will look to me as an example (when they apparently don't, and don't know what I'm trying to tell about themselves).

Perhaps the mirror is too distorted. Perhaps the mirror is too clear.

I find it crushed into me that perhaps my strongest points are possibly too strong. This is what I had been afraid of for all this time. Why I fear labelling myself as anything grand. Why I fear getting these labels. Jealousy not understood, but more that no one would understand what I am trying to say... what I feel.

Art... is something I have difficulty expressing in, despite the fact that I feel it strongly. Art, I understand, does not mean or feel the same thing for everyone. Creators or not, it is different. I experience it much like everything else... and because of that, I hide it more than anything else. My ability to see people and things through (I don't know whether or not it is anything spectacular) is easier to hide since I am not the type to talk and I know people are not the type to observe as I do. But art is meant to be observed... and for that, I hide.

What do I hide from? That... I wish I could label beyond direct anything. It would make more sense to accept my fear and head towards actually being able to handle it, rather than running it over as I usually do. But... the time, understanding, and freedom I would need to do this...

I suppose I assume that I have to do this on my own. I am used to assuming this, for many reasons. One is that I am alone for much of my life. Another is that I am naturally this way, to at least a strong extent. And the last... is because I am used to assuming that no one will be there for me... and that I cannot trust that anyone ever will be. I have never been proven incorrect so far. Perhaps because my existence and all I do defy people's expectations in both good and bad... meaning that they are unable to anticipate any needs I might have. What they think I need is not actually it.

For all our sakes, that it would be great if they could.

And... if I am still going for honesty, I know that I adapt too quickly, read too deeply. I consider my pain, another person's pain... weigh it out, weigh out how much more pain I am likely to cause them and myself... and then decide what I will do. And... it's how people can think I am cold sometimes. Because I care too much, I will accept whatever judgments people make initially, just because they do not see what I do.

I wish... I could describe what I see. I mean, I do sometimes, but people don't understand. And that... I wish I could be understood, sometimes. I am uncomfortable when I am, but it almost never happens anyway [ignoring readings, which others have more power to do]. For the most part my path takes me this way, as I know there are many that would understand. I can hear them, I can read about them. I am in a rather unlikely position for a person like myself to appear.

I want to be the person I could be. And yet... I also want to throw everything away and be "normal." But I know... I have no choice. I have a choice, and yet, it is never much of a choice at all, because I can never be "normal" without "dying." At that point, I'm much better off frying my brain with drugs, because it would be the same result.

I want to grow spiritually. I can feel that it is important, that I need it badly. Even if it will take me farther away, it will allow me to get closer. I need it for many reasons. One is that it is one of the only ways I will ever gain/maintain an equilibrium. All the lack of it has given me is the reasons why I have no choice. Because as I normally am, I would never find my place in the world.

With it, I would begin to make one.

And yet, questions as to my identity come into play. If this is the ground where questions find their answers, where identity begins, where change appears, and where possibility becomes reality... What of my efforts all this time? What have I been fighting for? What have I been struggling to understand people and everyone around me for?

I throw my thoughts in song and feel them accepted. I feel I am not alone in this... I feel that this is something everyone runs into. Perhaps not alive, but everyone will.

Were they useless endeavors? What is the purpose of understanding and intelligence? Or is it perhaps... that this overtaking of spiritual will not be necessary later? We all try to find answers... and yet... when new technology or techniques appear, they become obsolete... But that cannot be true. And yet it is. Perhaps it is borne of our inability to be flexible...

Perhaps the ability to cause a revolution itself... would cause a revolution in our priorities when creating our identity. Then it would make sense that little of this is useless. But more that the priority is different. Then the structure of events... and the result would look very different.

This... this is true power. This is what people fear the most, beyond anything. This is the unknown, and I can feel it.

I never wanted to fear... and I never wanted power. But I did want to understand, since that was what I needed to combat my fear. I feared the unknown perhaps more than most people. Because of that, I had to understand. So little in the world made sense... that without it, I was without a ground.

Naturally... I am this way. People identify with the landscape, idols, and window shopping, but I... I do not identify with much of anything other than recognizing that the face in the mirror is not mine. And yet, because of that, I can identify myself with much more than most. Because by default, I do not belong. I do not, by default, feel or think the same way they do. It's just that I can, with practice and guidance.

And yet, I am human. I am not unique, because I have seen this face in other people, although they are not within my reach.