2012年4月14日 Cruelty

"It's a trap. I'm a trap"

Fuck the grammar, the typos, the run-on and off sentences. Fuck it, fuck me, fuck it. Let's just get down to the brass tacks of the issue.

I can be an extremely cruel person, in fact, I'm quite good at it.

Don't confuse that with pride. 

I'm not proud by any means, even if I'm good at it.

I hate it, and it makes me want to die.

I was asked by a family member something semi-personal, I asked them "Why?" 

They said, "Because I just want to know." 

I responded by openly reflecting on their past behavior, "Well, I want to know why you abandoned my brother and I for a complete stranger and his kids." 

"You know what-- just get out. I'm done."

This is somewhat unintentional and on auto-mode. But if I said it was completely unintentional I would be lying, what I mean to say is that it's me not making a huge effort other than breathing. I can help it. I could help that. I'm not trying hard or making a strong effort with that kind of cruelty and that's example I wanted to point out of that specific situation.

***

As I said, I didn't even have to try. I wasn't trying (hard) to be cruel with that response. I just found a file in my brain, scanned for whatever was the most efficient at defusing the situation from myself and bringing it up into the hypothetical realm. I wasn't angry when I asked what I asked or defensive. After the data was found, I pulled out mental mirror. I pulled it out even though it would not make the situation better. When this mirror of open-reflection-on-emotions-or-memories-that-suck is pulled out, things do not generally go well for anyone. Most people know what pains them, I find it, and remind them. 

And most of those people are not equipped to openly assess their problems, unless they are in a private room with a therapist.

So what happens when I'm trying or when don't smile?

--Fuck it doesn't even matter if I'm smiling or not!! If I'm trying, it's just fucking worse!

The following, until the end, is an open assessment of that.

I end up being the one who breaks everything. Someone may break something in their life, with or without me, and when this happens sometimes I come out and make things extremely difficult. I do this by showing them all the skeletons in their closet. Many of which they are unable to come to terms with or even knew of in the first place. Shoving it all in their emotional face, all the pain that was supposed to be gone. I bring it all back. The details, the details are the pain. And I investigate it all.

In most cases, it's not because I'm being vengeful. I bring it back as reference, as if it's just an example to a math problem. So casually, so calmly, very cruel. But what happens when it's not calm or casual?

My skill is fucking disgusting, painful, and feels VERY bad when used in a non-casual way.

But like the men and women I love: love is like roses, so it goes without saying that love doesn't come without thorns. Love has a price-tag, but love is never negotiable. If I want love, I take a risk (and that's the price tag), but I can't negotiate love because I'm afraid of the risk. Because then it negates love. That's when I got cruel. I made a, the terrible mistake negotiating hope, love, and faith. And I got cruel when I didn't get what I wanted.

I wasn't violent: I was cruelty incarnate.

An injured sparrow landed  on my hand, I tried help it as it talked to me. When it got scared, and I started to scare it, the sparrow  bit me unconsciously. I started to crush it. It didn't know any better, or if it did, I tried to crush it anyhow. I have done this to a person! I have expressed cruelty to a person. I hurt them, even though they were hurting another and wanted to stop, but couldn't or wasn't ready. Even when they knew something was wrong, and needed help with their problem, I hurt them. I hurt them effectively, and efficiently. Instead of effectively helping them efficiently. I turned my back on the lighthouse I was in charge of, letting them crash on their own rocks, and guiding them into pain. It was a terrible thing. I'm a terrible thing! And it got me thinking again about something I thought I could file away even from myself...

At that moment I was a disgustingly cruel person. And I reflected all the cruelty I saw and felt onto a person only asking for help (albeit probably not in the best way), from all the angles that I could. I applied cruelty from all hypothetical positions, from the daughter to the mother. Again, I played all angles, all stops were gone, and went as far as I could. The problem is that there isn't a limit to cruelty. And it knew it.

What was that file I put away?
If all I do is cause pain, and abuse my power, why am I even here?
If everything I touch bleeds because of my own negligence, why should I even participate in life?

It was a type of punishment on that person. The last time, someone came to me with hesitation, we broke up 24 hours later. I had no idea she was going to leave me so suddenly. Without any warning, no big fight, nothing. Our last meeting as a couple, while short was so nice. She got me flowers, a smile, a hug, everything, but enthusiasm. 

"Will you spend the night?" 

"... No, I'm just tired from work..." 

"I love you, don't work so hard!" I said. 

24 hours later, she had broken up with me. When hesitation came back again into my life, from someone else, I struck hard and fast with cruelty. I wasn't just going to get hit like that again.

Someone makes a mistake, hesitates, causes pain intentionally or accidentally, and instead of coming out with a helping hand at some point I pull the mirror. I use it on everyone, all those who are weak, innocent, guilty, and strong. And I use it until submission. Until the pain causes them to shutdown, and when that happens I use it even more, because I see the submission as an escape. I don't quit until their own reflection bleeds them. Although sometimes I did, I would even stand in front the mirror and project my skeletons onto someone else. Sometimes there isn't a submission. Sometimes someone looks beyond the mirror, and sees only that I'm holding a mirror. Some people just look at see me, holding information. And they look beyond me, and they look at the future. Those people are untouchable against that kind of cruelty. Few can do it. I have brought great shame on myself for finding those people when I used a mirror that way. I have brought greater shame on me from those who couldn't.

***

The coffee reminded me that I have a wonderful skill, and I'm using it in the wrong way.

And I'm using it in the wrong way because I'm hating myself, because of fear.

I'm the man who shows you how to hurt yourself when you say you want to hurt yourself. 

I'm the man who wants to drink with you when you want to get drunk.

I'm the man who wants to smile with you when you want to feel better. 

I'm the man who hurts you when you hurt others, or you hurt yourself.

I'm the man who wants to love you, when you hate yourself.
I'm the man who wants to hate you, when you love yourself.

I'm the man who wants to love you, when you love yourself.

I'm the man who wants to hate you, when you hate yourself.

I'm the man who loves you, when you come for love.

I'm the man who shows you hate, when you come for love.

I'm the man who shows you love, when you come for hate.

I'm the man who shows you a shadow, when you come for the man.

I'm the shadow of a man, when I turn off the lights.

I'm the man who loves children, yet jokes about kicking them down stairs.
I'm the man in pain, but smiles anyway.
I'm the man who is angry, yet happy anyway.

I'm the man who holds the door open for you. And I'm the guy kicks you when you're down. 

I shake your hand, I show honest kindness. 

And I also show my cruelty honestly, and its morally wrong, repugnant, and realistically worse than ingesting pig-vomit with intensity. 

When fear takes over, evil flourishes

My dishonesty is when I express that the world is a good place, and we need hope and faith, and yet my moral nihilism tells me nothing matters. My dishonesty is that is that hold a high standard, and yet I wake up sometimes wondering if it matters at all. My dishonesty is my doubt, my fear, and from that fear comes my cruelty.

Every time a new question, a new answer, and a new situation I often find myself re-creating and re-learning to cope with the structures & chaos of and in the world. It's a nightmare sometimes to be my friend. It's a blessing sometimes to be my friend. I'm the worst or the best, in just a few moments, in just a few questions, in just a few answers. Everything is fragile and yet solid. It's all water, ice one moment, mist in another. Bringing clouds, quenching thirst, bringing waves to swim in, and rain to flee from.

It's a nightmare to know that when all a person really needs from me is a hug, a smile, or a glass of water, but all I do sometimes is wait with that mirror. Or those skeletons, and I'm waiting to show you them. Whether it's reminding someone of a song that depresses the fuck out of them, or bringing up something they said eons ago, I wait. I wait in my fear. And sometimes I wait in my love.

It's a terrible thing that I wield both peace and war in both hands, sometimes simultaneously.

It's cruel I can do it with a smile or tears in my eyes.

It's cruel I still exist when I do these cruel things.
It makes me wonder if should die from a Jihad-ist beheading involving sporks and serrated butter knives.

I am not the tax collector of your sins, but sometimes I wear that suit.

When I get home and look into my own mirrors, I remind myself that I also have my own taxes to collect. I hate myself for lying to myself. When the persons in my life I should have been angry at, I let go in peace. Sure, I should have let them go in peace, but I shouldn't have lied to myself about the situation thinking that I shouldn't have been angry. I should have been honest with myself, instead of going for the mirror. 

I shouldn't have been cruel to another or myself, when someone was there to help me. To help me off the ground. Instead I kicked myself. Then one day, I stopped kicking and I got up. Later I offered the same, I offered to help someone up, and when they kicked their body instead of getting up, I kicked them also. God will make me pay for this, and I hope one day, I can learn from this or die trying.

w/o love for anything
or anyone.

So sometimes I wonder if I should pay the ultimate price just to catch up on the interest of my own transgressions. If I paid, would I really be paying the price or is it that cruelty would really win?

What about love? 

Do I even remember love or is it all just fear now? 

Certainly there is hope. Certainly. 

Because I can see it, even though it's just beyond my reach. 

I have to pick one or the other, or I will never have peace and love. 

I will never have complete war and anger. 

I will have only an opportunity for nothing and everything at the same time, but never actually having nothing or everything. It'll just be me at the intersection with the choice.

When will I wake up, instead of punishing others for not waking up?

I can't afford to wait. I can't afford to wait, if I want hope and faith.
I can't afford to wait if I want a life of hope and faith.
I can't afford to be cruel anymore, because the price-tag is too much.

I can't afford to solve my fear alone.

Every available resource at my disposal must be available for them, including my life, or there never will be a recovery from this. Of course, I did offer every available resource before, and when I asked for honesty, it was denied. I applied honesty again, albeit aggressively in a cruel manner. When my (cruel and direct) honesty was not met with honesty other than with anger and hatred, I wondered if this person really wanted help.

Even now I wonder, why weren't my questions answered? Why can't this person express trust?
A mistake is a mistake if the perception of truth was wrong. I.e. "Two times two is five!" The truth is wrong, because the person did not know the truth. But when the person knows the truth saying, "Two times two is five!" Yet the person saying that knows it is not five, certainly we can't say that's a mistake. It's a lie.

I may have been cruel, but a lie is also cruel. Cruelty itself is just cruelty, it can be honest or it can be through deception. Continuing lying and knowing it, is cruel. Dishonesty is cruel as well. Truth can be cruel to those who do not believe in it. :) As someone once said to me, "What's actually changed other than you're the bad guy? As far as I'm concerned you didn't lie about anything and you were honest from the beginning (regardless of being cruel)."

Questions never end. Nor should they.
Not asking or answering questions, raises more and more questions