emotional tissue

After littering plurk with vague allusions to my current state and such, I realized what a prick I’m being so I might as well write a complete blog about it, rather than chuck bits of emotional tissue at unsuspecting plurkmates.

So yes. My plan of sloshing myself with alcohol the weekend after the BIG BREAK was a huge fail, drunkeness-wise. Still, it was an enlightening evening/really early morning on the phone, with the last person I would have counted on to Listen, but of whom I shouldn’t have been surprised. At that time, he was what I needed. I needed to be scolded, to be told I was wrong, to be analyzed without all the bullshit I justify myself with. So, if you’re bored and you’re reading this, I want to say this: THANK YOU. You are wonderful. Surprisingly.

The morning after, though, I wake up with a stinging feeling at the back of my throat, and my nasal cavities assailed by the dreaded colds. Colds usually come and go this season, but the inflamed tonsil was an omen of speechlessness to come. True enough, I am currently relying on a blasted Mickey Mouse whiteboard in order to communicate.

How ironic that I have spent months and months of not being able to Talk, and when I finally did, my voice decides to take a vacation to the far off island of Tonsilitis and Disease. It’s like being told cosmically: You’ve said your piece. Now shut up.

I love, though, that my silence now is tempered with a sense of meditation. That conversation last night shook me up, and allowed me to settle so I can find my center. It enlightened me to my actual motivations, instead of the shit I keep telling myself (see, that’s the danger of talking to yourself. You always tend to agree with each other). It showed me how the other person might have felt, and told me plainly what my fault was. Yes, I’ve been too emotional. Yes, I have abused my victim card. Yes, I was petty and bitter and I was resisting change.

Add all of that to the unfortunate Circumstance, and it was an inevitable disaster.

One thing he kept telling me, that guy on the phone, was that for someone who is supposedly open, I had a hard time transferring the “relationship template” to other people, especially when my current templateurs are moving to other directions. Yes, that is very true. Somehow, I layer my friendships. There are categories. There are very high expectations (which reminds me of someone else telling me that I am too intense.) There are definitions.

But I forgot one thing. Friendship cannot be defined. It is a free-flowing thing, you do not force it. By labeling it with categories and assigning expectations to it, I sullied the thought of unconditional love friends give freely, not to mention just bringing myself misery and inevitable disappointment.

I find it funny though, because I thought I was the last person who expected anything from anybody. I am pretty passive, I could easily adapt to whatever your plans are. Then I figure: I am demanding in lots of other ways, which is worse, because I go passive-aggressive on your ass about it.

Passive-aggressivity makes all my bitterness volatile, my grudges longer to bear, and my spite blow up to the point where I could make a very good villainess. Not the type to conquer the world, mind you, but the type who would exact revenge cold and with enough torture.

It is that passive-aggressive reaction to conflict that I must let go of.

*end of tissue roll*

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In other news, I have just finished Robert Greene’s Art of Seduction. I don’t really remember what drove me to search for the pdf, but I read it and found it engaging. It was interesting enough that even though I do not subscribe to some tenets of it, I get the urge to try. As a book, it is also very seductive. However, if it were ever a subject in school, I would have passed the Lec, and failed the Lab. Dismally.

I’ve told some people that I have decided to seduce someone, but in reality, I’m just too lazy to do so. I would be regretful of the effort I would have to exert. It’s fun, yes, but at the end of the day, I know I don’t like that person enough anyway. It’s too much energy for a goddamn whistle.

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~ by denice on 26 July, 2009.