Dear People,
First, let me start off by expressing my appreciation for your desire to meet with myself and know who I am. I apologize for not seeing to any of your requests. I feel in my heart it is the right thing to do. Please don’t take my decision to remain anonymous as a sign of being contemptuous. Rather, it is because I hold every single one of you in the highest regards.
If you would, I would like to explain my anonymity. Earlier today a young girl by the name of Lori accidentally fell into the water of the Upper Bay while riding from Staten Island to Manhattan on the Staten Island Ferry. Due to the temperature of the water and the wake of the ferry, Lori became unable to stay afloat. I went in after her.
Upon returning with Lori to the ferry, multiple people began applauding, including the young girls mother. As I left, those who had witnessed the event stopped to thank me for saving Lori’s life… Similar situations have occurred multiple times.
I do not wish to be thanked.
It seems to me that the majority of the population celebrates the success of our individuals. Though I do not disagree with this practice, I believe more focus should be made on the affect of the group.
I am part of a whole. The countless individuals who have influenced myself in ways I do and do not know determine my actions. Your gratitude disregards all those, including yourselves. I thank you for making me who I am. You are responsible for creating me and I am responsible for creating you. We are responsible for one another. Without you, I could have not saved anyone’s lives.
I hope you now understand why I desire to go unknown. We are all heroes. We are all villains. No one individual can be completely responsible for any one action. We are all to thank and blame.
Please, take my anonymity as a symbol of this lesson. Act accordingly.
Love,
Us.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Holy crap, Love?
Nothing can bring on a rant more than the concept of love.
Nothing can hurt your head more; squeeze your chest more than this concept.
Love is gravity.
A new friend has just described an event where the word was used in its intended purpose.
Its got me thinking… As usual.
While many people have told me they love me, never the way described above.
I’m not a big fan of this world. It’s dirty, it’s selfish, it’s pointless.
The one thing that keeps me from becoming an evil genius determined to destroy this place is this ridiculous concept of love.
I have told myself in the past that I have “loved,” that I was in love with one person or another. I hope, I pray that I was wrong. I plead to whomever is above me that I have yet to experience love.
Why?
This concept of love I hold so dear would be crushed. If I loved someone the way I believe love really should be, how is it possible that they are not still in my life?
If that love was real, it shouldn’t be allowed.
I know in past writings I have described love as a drug. I am not taking that statement back. I am just admitting that I’m addicted. I am addicted to a drug I have never taken.
I dream of someone telling me they love me, really love me.
For me, hearing this would be like finding a needle in a haystack, and than turning that needle into a diamond through a warmth and understanding I can only wish I one-day experience.
I love you.
Can it ever be bad to tell someone you love them?
Obviously describing and explaining your emotions and feelings to anyone opens up vulnerability. What the fuck does it mean to be vulnerable than? To love and not be loved? We wait and hope for the other person to say it first to save ourselves from this vulnerability. But why? Shouldn’t it be the first person to fall in love, to say they love wins? They win because they got to experience this godliness first.
No.
It doesn’t work like that simply because of the horrible pain that comes with loving without being loved.
Sorry, everything I’m saying is obvious, let me try and take this somewhere…
This fear of expressing ones love should be lost.
What a lovely thing to hear, love.
From the view of the one being loved, how could you possibly not feel amazing when hearing “I love you?”
Maybe it’s the expectations that come with such a statement.
Fuck that. Someone just told you they loved you, they fucking love you. If your not smiling with a burning feeling inside, you don’t deserve that love, thus it’s good you don’t love them back.
Oh crap, I made a mistake. Maybe. Thinking about it, the fear in confession is necessary. If this fear wasn’t there, could the concept of love become over saturated? Would it loose its meaning? Instead of telling someone of your love whenever you can, should we use the word less? Increase its value? Does supply and demand work with love? The less there is, the more it’s wanted, the more it means to you when you get it, the bigger the diamond?
I love you.
Maybe.
Crap.
Nothing can hurt your head more; squeeze your chest more than this concept.
Love is gravity.
A new friend has just described an event where the word was used in its intended purpose.
Its got me thinking… As usual.
While many people have told me they love me, never the way described above.
I’m not a big fan of this world. It’s dirty, it’s selfish, it’s pointless.
The one thing that keeps me from becoming an evil genius determined to destroy this place is this ridiculous concept of love.
I have told myself in the past that I have “loved,” that I was in love with one person or another. I hope, I pray that I was wrong. I plead to whomever is above me that I have yet to experience love.
Why?
This concept of love I hold so dear would be crushed. If I loved someone the way I believe love really should be, how is it possible that they are not still in my life?
If that love was real, it shouldn’t be allowed.
I know in past writings I have described love as a drug. I am not taking that statement back. I am just admitting that I’m addicted. I am addicted to a drug I have never taken.
I dream of someone telling me they love me, really love me.
For me, hearing this would be like finding a needle in a haystack, and than turning that needle into a diamond through a warmth and understanding I can only wish I one-day experience.
I love you.
Can it ever be bad to tell someone you love them?
Obviously describing and explaining your emotions and feelings to anyone opens up vulnerability. What the fuck does it mean to be vulnerable than? To love and not be loved? We wait and hope for the other person to say it first to save ourselves from this vulnerability. But why? Shouldn’t it be the first person to fall in love, to say they love wins? They win because they got to experience this godliness first.
No.
It doesn’t work like that simply because of the horrible pain that comes with loving without being loved.
Sorry, everything I’m saying is obvious, let me try and take this somewhere…
This fear of expressing ones love should be lost.
What a lovely thing to hear, love.
From the view of the one being loved, how could you possibly not feel amazing when hearing “I love you?”
Maybe it’s the expectations that come with such a statement.
Fuck that. Someone just told you they loved you, they fucking love you. If your not smiling with a burning feeling inside, you don’t deserve that love, thus it’s good you don’t love them back.
Oh crap, I made a mistake. Maybe. Thinking about it, the fear in confession is necessary. If this fear wasn’t there, could the concept of love become over saturated? Would it loose its meaning? Instead of telling someone of your love whenever you can, should we use the word less? Increase its value? Does supply and demand work with love? The less there is, the more it’s wanted, the more it means to you when you get it, the bigger the diamond?
I love you.
Maybe.
Crap.
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