Wondering, ‘what the hell did I do
last night?’
My God…what did I say?
What did I post on FB?
As if trying to distance myself from my
actions, as if they were a momentary lapse of reason.
An emotional blackout.
Or a schizophrenic episode.
But I cannot distance myself from my
words.
They were...ARE...me.
As unattractive as they may seem…
This is who I really am; and it comes
out when I am tired, or emotional.
When the defences are down.
Some time ago, I made a promise with
myself (& others, for in my opinion we are one and the same) to
show my truth, in good times and in bad.
I look now- today- at what I wrote last night...in the cold
hard light of day, and wonder…how can I write something like that?
Something so truthful?
That which comes out in the dead of night
almost seems to evaporate- to somehow not make sense...the morning after.
Almost as if another person, was out at night, betraying me.
Spreading rumours about me.
But no...it was not someone else.
I cannot distance myself from these words.
They were mine.
What did you do, John? the voice in my head says.
You bared your soul for all to see?
Are you fuckin' nuts?
But then, is that me talking?
Or the authority figure in my head?
My words are in part a rebellion
against my father, who always warned me “TELL THEM NOTHING.”
‘Don’t complain, don’t explain
and NEVER apologise!’
(To be fair to dear old dad- he merely
echoed the sentiments of the broader community.
And in the end…it turned out to be
NOT who he really was.
And his denial of self eventually drove
him mad.)
I guess deep down, I hope to avoid the
same fate.
By flying in the face of popular
opinion, and showing who I really am.
Rather than hiding behind a façade.
But it is not easy.
As Nagisa Oshima said, “Aren’t Directors supposed to search out the path to human freedom…even if it’s difficult…even if it’s painful?”
I incite the anger and judgement of my
harshest critic in doing so.
Myself.
But I am not alone in this animosity.
I know how unpopular being open, honest
and true to oneself is.
Getting in touch- and staying in touch-
with our core being…
And going on the record with what we
find.
As if holding myself accountable to
others in the process.
In short- I conduct myself in safe
passage to a better way of living…
Being…
As if I am being watched.
I engage- with due sense of caution and dread- upon my quest, as if every move is
being scrutinised.
I understand how this confuses most people, in their
inexplicable lust for privacy.
Why on earth hide who you really are?
What point are 'you', if no one else sees
it?
Did you really exist?
Who knew about it?
Who knew you???
Have you actually allowed anyone to see you??
Really SEE you??
I have always had the nagging suspicion
this is important.
Nay…CRUCIAL.
Despite its patent unpopularity.
Most of the women I have dated-
whenever I attempted to be open, or candid- would ask me point blank
‘why are you doing this’?
As if I were plotting a child
abduction.
They seemed ill equipped to grasp my
yen for complete candour.
Affirming my belief that most people
claim to want the truth…
But actually don’t.
Why am I doing this?
It could be a mutiny against the lies
inherent in the system.
However, I am more inclined to believe
it is nothing more than my S.O.P.
My prime directive.
Inexorable, unrelenting…
like some kind of Sensitive New Age
Terminator.
‘It’s what he does! It’s ALL he
does!’
And FB- for better or worse- seems to
be where I do it.
Ironic, to find out I seem to use the
social media not only to have a better relationship with other
people…but also with myself.
I seem hell-bent on finding out who I
really am.
& what I really think, and feel.
I thought last night’s post was about
funerals.
It actually turned out to be about no
weddings.
After a lifetime of denial- apparently
it bothers me that I never married.
Amazing how hard we will fight to be
absolutely anything other than who we really are.
Also amazing how- in the end- we cannot
allow ourselves that denial forever.
Eventually… we HAVE to meet
ourselves…
Ultimately…we have no choice.
I could stop at any time…
but I don’t.
I also can’t turn back, now the work
has begun.
It is no longer about anyone else- who
I offend, whom I may impress with my sentiments…
But about me.
Even if I end up alone, as I have
always been…
with nothing more than my truth…my
fundamental truth…no matter how ugly or pathetic…
It seems to be imperative.
What is important is the truth of who I really am.
Warts and all.
And as for my yen, my desire for companionship...
what of that??
I am reminded of the wonderful Spaulding Gray, in that amazing movie 'TRUE STORIES', when he talks about how Texas;
He tells of how God took a night off from making the world, & when he came back the next morning, he saw the earth had hardened like concrete.
He thought...'what will I do?'
Then he had a brain wave. He said "I know; I'll make some people that like it this way."
Take pride in it.
Keep on marching on this, my blurred crusade.
And who knows?
Maybe God made someone who likes me this way!
My thanks to you, dear friends, for helping me with this...
:)
