little_tippler

Right. So I don't know whether anyone has posted something like this here, so if they have just let me know. Also I think this is the right forum to post this in, but again i'm not sure.

What I have to say is this. I'm clueless about other people. Does anybody else here feel the same? I feel this very intensely sometimes, I don't know if you get what I mean.

I have only a few people in my life that I consider good friends, family, etc. I seem to find it increasingly different to relate to other people, even though I do want to. I don't understand the first thing about how other people think, how to approach them, reach them. But it's what I most want, to truly understand and reach others.

Sometimes I'm positive about things and I think, no matter how many differences there might be between people, there's always basic things we have in common, that will bring us together eventually. But then sometimes I'm so negative that I just hate everyone outside of myself, because I think more and more so in western society, people isolate themselves and become sociopaths.

We have access to so many things, people, situations, too many in fact, but it seems to have the reverse effect on truly knowing other people. Being with people who you can really relate to, who you can love completely, who you can equate yourself with in total simplicity has become a rarity as life gets too complex to even just breathe.

At the end of the day I look at other people and I see blank faces and can read nothing into them. And I think I am a very easy going person, because (and I don't want to be in any way imodest) I have learnt throughout my life that it is so very important to listen to others, take their views/feelings into account, and generally that arguing for arguing's sake is so pointless when all you have is one short life to live. But I always seem to be hitting walls.

I may not be making much sense here anymore. Call it a rant, whatever. But I was hoping to shed some light on this subject as I feel at a loss to cross this barrier.

Just for a small example: the other day I was in my car, in a huge queue. It took me one hour to get to the road exit I wanted (this was about 10 km away from where I left). I was in the middle lane and htere was a right lane, that went in a different direction. Some guy who thought it would be smart, came down that right lane, undertaking all the queue, and came to stop by my car, signaliing that he wanted to be let in. I was so frustrated by this behaviou that I told him, "I have been in this queue for an hour. So maybe you should get in at the back of the queue and have some respect for others. You know what he said? "Why don't you go and suck on a huge turd?" (yelling). He had his wife and 2 kids in the car. I was speechless, and shocked to say the least. It's the sort of thing that makes me think, what a shit human being I just met. I could never understand that man.

This isn't my best example, but I hope you're not all going to talk to me about road rage because that is not the point. Teh thing is, sometimes I so don't know what to do next with regards to a particular situation with someone else, that all I can do is crumble inside, because I have tried every good feeling and thought in my power to reach them but I can't do it. Then all I feel is something like an intense burning inside me where I just want to disappear.

I'd like your input on what I just wrote, sorry it's so long! I hope you don't all think I'm nuts lol

__________________
Whether we write or speak or do but look
We are ever unapparent. What we are
Cannot be transfused into word or book.
Our soul from us is infinitely far.
However much we give our thoughts the will
To be our soul and gesture it abroad,
Our hearts are incommunicable still.
In what we show ourselves we are ignored.
The abyss from soul to soul cannot be bridged
By any skill of thought or trick of seeming.
Unto our very selves we are abridged
When we would utter to our thought our being.
We are our dreams of ourselves, souls by gleams,
And each to each other dreams of others' dreams.

Fernando Pessoa, 1918