2005-10-22
friend
i have no idea why am i typing in entries when o's is so near. this is so rare of me to do so. perhaps, the recent spate of events have made me think alot about things and people around me, how things/people have changed. how every rotation of the earth seems to bring me to a greater realization of myself.
once, i asked my friend, what kind of person she was like. she told me, that she was the kind of person who do not know about herself. then, i wondered. is it that i truly know who i am, or do i merely believe in myself being like who i think i am? after all, believing in something does not validate the reality of things. sometimes, i feel that im in total control of my feelings, that i understand perfectly who i am. then again, there are times when i could hardly understand why i did that or felt that, could not comprehend why i'm like that. i dont merely refer to the nasty side of me, but the surprising nice side too. i always thought that i was selectively nice to people, and that was different from a universal nice treatment of others. then again, that's not like that all the time. it changes. or is it that we change every second and every minute. that with every passing moment, with every experience, our personality changes and is influenced by our ever-changing experiences? is it really that way?
i dont have a definite answer to that, but slowly, i do realize something. sometimes, someone may lament that time passes too quickly and he/she wants to find back their childhood days when things were so much simpler and happier. but as i grow and mature, as i think more and understand better, though i could slowly see the ugly side of people/things, this new-found maturity of thought allowed me to comprehend the depths of love and friendship.
let me recount an experience. this particular night, i asked my friend, who is she close to, who is her best friend. after some moments of silence, she replied, that she didnt really know. that she doesnt really have someone all that close to her whom she would utmost comfort with. then, i looked into my heart and i saw the same answer. sure, i have friends around. but, who really understand my every single emotion? since it is so difficult to have someone who really truly understands you, and since most of us (i believe) do not hhave psychic powers to read the minds of others, are we humans fated to live a life of mental solitude? or is it meant for us to open our selves up, to convey our thoughts and feelings to someone, to bring that person(s) into our hearts?
but then again, there would always be something, something that you cant tell someone. something that if you told your friends/more than friend, it would result in undesirable consequences. it may not be something guilty that you did, or a wrong you've commited. it may just be a fleeting thought you had, a feeling you have which you cant express. once, someone said that everyone have their dirty little secrets, and that one day, they'll take a bite at us. i've never heard someone say this before, but it's sure thought-arousing. secrets, are part and parcel of life, due to the very nature of humans. we, feel. we love and we care. we hate and we detest. we, humans, have scores of feelings so varied and coloured. some are beautiful, some may be hurtful. some may be good news, some may just simply be sensitive. and because we dont want to be on the harsh receiving end, we keep them away from those who should not be hearing them. humans, are complicated. well at least, we made the world complicated.
so what do i mean? actually, i dont know. just that, i wondered why many people have the tendency to feel at ease with perhaps, strangers. not strangers whom you meet on the streets, but perhaps people around you whom you were never close with. acquaintances perhaps. may be it provides a more neutral point of view, a less critial voice. may be that's why.
anyway, to that friend who dont know who she is, or how she is like, just to let you know, may be, you're not alone. you made me think quite a bit about my life, my story. once, i wrote that my favourite book is my diary. because not one has read it before, because it's my private space. because it provide a place where i found solace. because it's where my story is documented. because it's where i would perhaps, one day, realize who i am. who i really am. friend, thanks.
iiforgive at 8:15 p.m.