28 February 2010

double take

In short:

Every time I see anyone giggling or smiling, in person or online, boy or girl, intentional or not--I have a gut feeling that everything that person is doing, saying, thinking...is for the wrong motive.

I honestly stand by my years-old philosophy about human nature. Selfish, right? So anything you're doing that requires more effort than you would usually give (none) is for the wrong motive. You have the wrong motives. I have the wrong motives. We all have the wrong motives.

I can't find anything genuine anymore. There's nothing I know that is untainted. Sad, but true. It's what distinguishes us from true believers, true friends, true people. So I kind of look on, scoffing and rolling my eyes. Even witnessing what seems to be the most true confessions...like today...the majority of the time, I have a feeling people are only speaking because they feel obliged to. They want to be the good example. They want people to think they're pursuing a humble heart. They want people to think this two-minute call to prayer has somehow changed their life.

Maybe it's true. But more often than not, there's some false motive lying behind it all. I know. I've done it. I am it.

Yes, I've gotten increasingly cynical over the years--but I don't consider it a necessarily bad thing. My standards have simply gone up. So when people have the nerve to condemn me of my "openly wrong" actions...I see through you. I see through your subtle actions, how you bias your time; I hear what you say when you think you're being secretive, I know what you're thinking. Because I classify myself as an ultimate sinner. Addict, liar, self-mutilator, profane, selfish, arrogant. I have no right to judge, but because of what I have both seen and experienced, in small or great quantities...I do. Because I relate. I see myself in everyone's flaws. And I hate both myself and you for it.

Thing is, I acknowledge it. I embrace it, and I'm learning from it. Consequentially, I've lost a great deal of faith and trust in humanity. Cliche, right? Especially for someone as naive and fickle as me. But it honestly pains me to watch other people put on that facade, the facade I'm trying to terminate. In the end, I hope something clicks along the way, and that those whom I "love" dearly will find themselves completely worthless in real terms, if they haven't realized it yet. Because that's what we are. I don't think reinvention comes any other way.

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