So at some point in your life, you're going to have to reach an understanding. Of someone, of something, of yourself. At some point...right? So you tell yourself, "I need to sort out my past" But, it's gone. You can only move forward. At some point...right? So, at some point, you have to look at that girl or that guy and understand why they won't make eye contact anymore. At some point...right? So, at some point you have to learn to accept/and or tolerate the differences around you. yeah, at some point...right? So let's speak hypothetically, if I could be so bold and paint you a picture.
Let's say I'm sitting here, leg crossed at the ankle, smoking my cigarette daintily. And let's pretend that I'm telling you every last grimy detail of my life. and let's just walk the line that maybe I'm a bad person. But, up to this point you've believed otherwise. Confusion? Let's say you reach a conclusion about me, about the stool I'm sitting on, and about yourself. As you go through all the motions of coming to understand, to really understand someone else for who they are, stripped naked of any facade, you start to look at your hands, at your own face differently. How does this revelation effect you. What do you do? Do you accept what is before you, do you me as i am, for what I was, for who I am becoming?
Now let's flip this around and say that for a moment, YOU are sitting here, leg crossed about the ankle, smoking a cigarette. and let's pretend that YOU are telling me every last grimy detail of your life. and let's walk the line that you're a bad person. But, up to this point, I'd believed otherwise. How do I take this?
Well, I'd smoke another cigarette. To kill time. And then I'd try to understand more. and that would lend it's hand to respect
No comments:
Post a Comment