You think the world is neat and tidy, that human nature is plain and clear. You believe what people say; you believe that they are what they claim to be, and that what they let you see is truly who they are. You think that, for the most part, people are consistent, that they're not confused and that they, at least, know who they are. You believe that, in general, people are honest and safe. You believe that intentions are usually pure, innocent and harmless. You believe that lies and hidden agendas are far from the norm. You don't see the ugliness that exists right in front of your eyes, and, therefore, you don't believe it's there.
Sometimes, I wish I could live in your pleasant world; other times, I briefly visit it and dream about staying. But then the vacation ends, and its relegated to that drawer in my filing cabinet where I store all of the childhood ideals that I'm reluctant to shred.
And then I return to a world where the action behind the scenes is more real than the stuff we actually see. It's the place where the unsaid and the unacknowledged reign, where what you don't know may be better left that way. There's so much "wisdom" out there about how to deal with such a world, and, yet, I can't help but think sometimes that dealing with such a world at all is the same as giving it my silent approval.
I don't know whether to protect you from this world or to show it to you, thus shattering your illusions and destroying what you see. Because, really, what I'm leaning towards is somehow immigrating to your world and forgetting all about my own.
1 comment:
Sometimes I wish I could immigrate to that world.. but I have too much "truth" to do so. And, I cannot even convince myself it's good to leave someone there. It doesn't need my approval to exist.. and doesn't need their blindness to hurt them..
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