Nexus

It is always difficult to understand the depth that comes with connections.  Relationships are always surprising—depth can come even from the most two-dimensional of friendships.  I often find myself surprised by how quickly some people are willing to open up to me.  More often than not we both don’t realize how lucky we are.

They, like I, express pain.  They speak of how someone has hurt them, or how someone’s pain has made them hurt even more—and then I feel the pain as my friend’s problem becomes my own.  More often than not I view that pain as a downside, as something horrible—something that I want to get rid of and free myself from—and I associate the pain with that individual.  As a result, I often attempt to distant myself from that person.

But really, the pain is good.  It’s the pain that comes from a bond—a bond with often mistaken meaning.  It doesn’t mean the sharing of emotions, it is more than that, it is the ownership of another’s problems.  That individual is so important to me that I feel I must own his emotions.  That’s what I’m saying when I feel the pain, that I care enough about you, that I want to protect you because I am invested in you—I own a piece of you.  The act is selfish, and in its selfishness it is pure.

I am certainly not an altruistic individual, and I will not pretend to be.  I don’t believe that someone should take on another person’s problems.  I don’t believe that charity is necessarily beneficial to those you help—it creates dependence.  And when people are dependent, they simply don’t think.

I’ve spoken before how I believe in interdependence—I like this concept because it allows the freedom of information between two individuals—and thus, communication.  Dependence, and independence are a one way street—that’s why I ask for communication in my blog—that’s why I want comments.

I want people to own the site.  I want people to feel with me—to be interdependent.  It’s what we all seek in relationships, yet more often than not we shun away when presented it.  Unfortunately pain is a lot easier to have and convey than joy—if life was easy, we wouldn’t learn.

Editorial V: Lifeless

I would like to keep going.  I enjoy writing for my blog, and I think my readers truly enjoy the blog too.  However, the blog is not achieving the goals that I set forth when I started writing.  I wanted this page to open an avenue of communication that I only share with the closest of friends.  I wanted a freedom of communication, the anonymity of my subject and reader to be maintained- while the ideas and the situations were discussed.

However the discussions have been nonexistent.  Nobody takes the time and the opportunity to reflect upon the entry in the comments.  I don’t know if my readers consider my last article to be the best or the worst, I don’t know if they approve of my ideas, or think they are the ramblings of a lunatic.

Again I would like to keep going, I would like to keep writing.  However I’m not going to keep writing if nobody responds to my posts.  So I ask you, the reader, one last time:  if you enjoy this site, if you want to see more, if an idea strikes your core or raises questions, please share your reflection in the comments.

I’ve said before that comments are the lifeblood to this site, now I’m asking for a transfusion.

                                                     Sincerely,

                                                      Kyle    

Cease and Desist

 

While anger and despair can be fulfilling upon cessation, anxiety never is.  It is an emotion that is birthed from expectation and destroyed solely by the fulfillment of its needs.  It is your puppet master, a sadistic owner bent upon destruction, causing your actions become illogical and desperate.  It Forces you to dig your hole deeper—as if getting to China is the easiest and most logical way out.

Desperation leads to the poorest of choices, by yourself and observers.  Outsiders don’t know how to behave around the desperate.  They label your motivations illogical and actions irrational.  They look upon you like an infectious horror, a fiend carrying the worst of plagues.  To society you are no better than the homeless on the corner, begging for a dime so that you can buy another beer—people assume addiction and know that addiction feeds addiction.

There are few selfless individuals who may attempt to aid you, but you will be expected to dig yourself out alone.  If you cannot fulfill your needs you must give into the emotional emptiness forced upon you by failure.  Prolonging anxiety is worse than the emptiness that follows it.

Society fears the unknown, individuals savor it.  Break the trend and free yourself from your master’s shackles and you’ll find satisfaction in time.  Don’t prolong the anxiety, the gift waiting for you at the end is a Trojan horse—packed full of addiction.