On Friendly Strangers
Life Lessons, Truthiness Comments (1)
With the fearful strain that is on me night and day, if I did not laugh I should die. -Abraham Lincoln.
We here, on this planet, are really just friendly strangers. We exist in places: planes, elevators, and bars,- just to name a few- disembodied halves. In these places where we gather, lives are passed about; jobs, functions, connections, yet sometimes often not, a name is left out, as if we are strangers meeting on an airplane.
The few times a name is passed about, it’s tossed into the maelstrom, where we know it will be forgotten. We don’t even try anymore, saying things like “I’ll forget your name in a bit.”, often at parties and bars, places we are supposed to be social, yet hoping we are quickly forgotten.
We hide.
In the Open.
Only when there is anger is there truth. Because we are taught by society, to be polite, truth is eventually only expressed in anger. I have heard some express loathing for another, yet hug them and greet them with sugar smiles. We invite people over to dinner parties whom we would never speak to on airplanes, who we would never give our names. We tolerate them, because, we know someone they know. This is true rationalization.
It’s startling that we die thousands at a time on this planet: Natural disasters, wars, disease and accidents rob the world of millions of us yearly. All gone, not even a memory sometimes. Converted back to energy and dust.
What’s this life for we ask? if not to be remembered?
Next time, do more than smile.
Care.
Remember.
OceansOfThought @ May 30, 2008
This is a post of dispondancy, perhaps not specifically of the author but of an entire clandestine population. There was a time in the not-so-distant past when I felt I was alone, in my body through to the very depths of my soul, and I wondered if I should die in my sleep if it might be days or weeks before anyone even noticed. It is indeed unfortunate that I had to arrive at my darkest hour to realize that my very existance would be missed by a few, if not a small many.
I used to believe that there were only two kinds of people, commonly refered to as pessimists and optimists. the pessimist will believe that everyone has an ulterior motive and that they (the pessimist) are sure to get burned, and the optimist will believe that everyone will ultimately do the right thing and the world will be good. then I would wonder if it was worse to be fearful and alone or to be naive and constantly disappointed.
The conclusion I reached was that I will be kind to those that let me, and if they hurt me it is often my sole responsibility to ensure the offending actions/words forever cease. It’s not entirely unlike one of my favorite book passages, from Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451-“Don’t ask for guarantees. And don’t look to be saved in any one thing, person, machine, or library. Do your own bit of saving, and if you drown, at least die knowing you were headed for shore. You’re afraid of making mistakes. Don’t be. Mistakes can be profited by.”
It’s written overtly about books and knowledge, but easily translates into the remorse and struggles of an existential crises. Do what you can to the best of your abilities, who you are is special to someone, and should be most importantly, special to yourself. It seems the only way to be truely happy in this life.