Some days are better than others.
Most days are the same, except I learn more,
even though that genuinely changes nothing.
As I learn more about people, the reality is most people are experiencing the same things, at different times. I am learning to wonder if any of us truly "grow up", or if the idea of grown up is only a measurement for certain qualifiers.
I have met people who have divorced each other within a year of marriage, others who have stayed together for more than 40 years, perhaps even closer to 50. All parties seemed well established in their lives. I met a woman and a man who met each other in their 40s, during that time, they divorced their spouses. 3 years later, they reconnected and married. Marriage is a good example of change; though, I cannot understand how success as a "grown up" genuinely sustains some or certain relationships. Society tends to show these things are related to one another.
There were many nights in my life where there were people I was talking with and socializing. I now find myself spending more of my time with people who either I don't know, or don't particularly care about. It makes me wonder what friendship means. I don’t know if people are marriage, have friends, and have family because they know the other party. Perhaps familiarity, outside of knowledge has more value in society, but it doesn’t make much sense to me.
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I was going home the other day. I thought about yelling at strangers. I've never understood this concept of yelling at a stranger, or being angry at a stranger, unless they present an immediate physical or economic threat, etc. I've found myself easily excited towards anger or yelling about those I care about. I suppose it's because some people don't matter to me. Ideally this concept is represented by not wishing or choosing to go out of my way to be bothered by them, or willingly/unwillingly making an effort to bother them.
I simply cannot understand certain ideas anymore, since so much is left unsaid and unwritten. Worse, I find the more I seek conversation regarding these ideas, I find resistance.
The shame I’ve found or so it seems, prevents people from telling what they believe is the perceived truth, including my own.
