Thursday, July 10, 2014

Sticks and Stones

I live my life for the written word, because only those words can we be held to. There is a saying, "Say it and forget it; write it and regret it." I absolutely abhor that saying and that way of thinking. Words can be as harmful to the life of the spirit as swords are to the life of the flesh. Those who say what they will and then deny any responsibility for having said it are usually guilty of self-delusion. Any words that don't fit into their views of themselves simply could not have come from their mouths.

The denial of their actions adds insult to the injury. It is to call into question the sanity of those attacked. This, in my opinion, is the worst form of bullying, when one hides from what one has done behind a facade of lost memory. It isn't even as deep as lost memory, as it wasn't deemed important enough to the attacker to be paid attention to as it happened. This leaves the attacked emotionally bleeding, while others continue to believe in the friendly facade of the attacker. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words denied by friends can make me feel crazy.

I have no use for parroted phrases, no matter how powerful they may be to some. Unless a person is willing to attach enough thought to how a phrase has actually impacted or inspired their own experience, and is willing to put that into words that can be dissected and discussed, it seems to me not worth sharing. Passion is personal for me; I don't enjoy following mindless crowds.

How can it be that whole societies can be taught to deny what they see and hear with their own eyes and ears? What is it in humans that we are taught to avoid the danger signals that our animal instincts were fine-tuned to pick up? We wear perfumes to hide the animal smells that should tip us off about aggressive instincts of others, and learn to look into other than a person's eyes to see what is in the spirit.

I would rather live a life with one true friend than many lifetimes with multitudes of mindless admirers.

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