Wishful thinking. I would like to KNOW you. But then; you would have to open up to me. Maybe you would have to like to KNOW me too. I am too granted for that. When push comes to shove, I am there to count on. As long as I can.
Sometimes. From time to time I meet people for whom the designation ‘intellectual’ is talking dirty. I find this a pitiful misunderstanding. Supposedly they mix it up with snobbism.
Being intellectual means thinking thoroughly, forming your own views based on your knowledge, experience and intuition. Whereas snobbism makes use of pretenses, appearances, name dropping, falsification. It is a reoccurring happening throughout history; hostility, intolerance, even violence towards intellectuals. Somehow they manage to evoke this within the human interaction. Envy, jealousy? In any case an error.
Wrong conclusion. Somebody told me once that I was judgmental. She was wrong. I am opinionated, yes. But not judgmental, definitely not.
My definition is; an opinion is to be refined, polished, changed if necessary. If you come to a new interpretation, new understanding of a person, or a situation then you adjust your opinion. An opinion is your own idea based on your own perception.
You are judgmental if you measure people (mostly) around you according to common beliefs, dogmatic reasoning, conform guidelines. Being judgmental means in my opinion (haha) that you are not thinking independently.
Daydreams again. I dreamt that I was reaching out for you. You were so close; I could hear you breathe. You were smiling. I could see my hands almost touching you. You weren’t there. You were, but you weren’t. I was there, but I wasn’t.
Kindness. It is easy to forgive. Not easy to forget. Can you really forgive without forgetting? Can you protect yourself if you do forget? What to do when the interaction prevents you from following your own rules? What if you can’t alter the synergy?
Handicap again and again. I would have liked to make a happy home. With lots of laughter, love, warmth, understanding, culture, conversation. Instead I have this disease and with me everyone else close to me. I cannot wrestle myself free from the dependence on a daily basis, or concerning bigger issues. Issues like raising my children without too many bruises, getting proper aid, having an income. Sometimes it is a lonely struggle; it seems to have advantages for other people when you are weakened. I haven’t even mentioned coping with the disease, holding on to a perspective.
I don’t think I have such extraordinary problems, but this handicap deprives me from the ability of keeping my own direction.