To Say or Not to Say ...

Hello, yo!
It's a bright, warm morning; nice enough to get me into BlOgG3r mode.

You know those times, when some incidents happen, and leave you feeling weird. You think you've dealt with it fine enough, and then some little things happen, and kick that raw nerve, and you realise you haven't really pushed it under the carpet all fine. And the worst part is, that you want to tell someone how you're feeling, but you can't really tell someone without telling them what happened, and you do not want to tell anyone what happened. So it's a vicious little circle, if I may. So obviously, you do the whole 'woman of substance' thingie and 'draw upon your inner resources' and kick the problem in the face. And pray that teeny-weeny remembrances don't break the wall. Sigh .. how we make up problems of our own ...

Sometimes I wonder why humans do half the things that they do: I seriously suspect a very strong, though latent element of masochism in all of us. It's true. We love; people, cities, pets, anything, when we know for a fact that it isn't going to stay, the people will disappoint, as a rule, the cities we'll leave and the pets, well, will die. I know - Streisand says in The Mirror has Two Faces that we love because while it lasts it's the best damn thing, but the question remains - why. We trust, again knowing that it won't be held always unless you're one of those types who trust with naivete. Again, I'm calling that trust naive, when indeed my point is that all trust is naive. SO we love hurting ourselves. The worst part is, that when people who refuse to love and trust are called heartless, and the ability to indulge in the above-mentioned activities is called being human and all that crap. Logic has died an undeserved death.