August 25, 2003 - 2:12 a.m.
at work today a table gave me a pamphlet, "will you be too late?", offering me accessible passages to reference from the bible. They seemed concerned that my nearest good book was at my parents house...i didn't have room while moving into my new apartment to purchase my own copy.
"how does God feel about tipping?" i wanted to ask...but it was too late.
once, long ago, when i was a little girl, i was always friendly, cheerful and optimistic about strangers. This little girl was hopeful and naive, the type of people other kids would pretend to be mad at because she'd get upset and try real hard to figure out what she'd done to make them be so mean. aflicted with the habit of looking closely for the good in people, she let people get close to her, to hurt her again. she cared too much what other people thought. she thought to herself, if i'm nice enough, people will have to like me. then she grew up and learned that no one has to like anybody and some people just won't no matter how nice you are, how perfectly you behave or how badly. she still got hurt. somewhere she remembered to listen more closely to the energy that pours around people, listening to T, who describes this phenomena acting upon a subject...this girl, like a cup of crystal clear water, letting other people drop, drop after drop of themselves into her until somehow it had become all swampy and hard to see the world in the old crystaline ways. judgement tainted we paint on new ways of ordering ourselves and our alliances balance the weight of shifting perspectives as we maneuver always trying to keep the upper hand, to keep ourselves out of the painful paths that tend to end in tears.
I walked tonight, all the way to the end, to figure out if that's all there was. I tried to tell you that my feelings were hurt. That you and those girls like you, were, inspite of my efforts to see past my hesitation and better judgements, past the sexual distraction of it all, that i knew already, you could only hurt me. You think maybe the problem is that i still like you too much, when the real problem is that you think everyone does. I gave you a gift at christmas, because it was made with my own two hands. While you gave generously of your time, your money, while i had so little, i gave of myself to show you that i knew how to give. I loved it for myself and so, gave it to you. Because i remembered, in spite of you, that there were good things. I remember because it hurts to forget that.
