Writing and I

Some writers write for themselves, other writes for feed back. The way one write is similar to the way one lives. The connection required to made that statement is short and simple. Writing is but an extension to how we think; how we think is how we live. Therefore we write how we live.

some people are self conscious about other people reading into their words, others crave the attention of reader feed back. Some write simply to keep a record because ink lasts long after the blood dries. Some write without consideration of other people - now would that be considered a sense of freedom or a kind of blindness?

I realize more and more that I am more honest when I write to myself, I tend to emulate those that I associate with. Like an animal who tries to fit into the background. Unconsciously I try to speak the other person's language and I don't mean English or Chinese. I mean I tend unknowingly pick up other people's passion and pain, happiness and love. I wonder if this can be consider a form of lying, for few people then has chance to know who I really am. Or perhaps this is exactly what I am, a mirror of the world; a glass of water in the world of cups. There are social advantage obviously, people tend to accept same kind. So perhaps my response is honed from moving from place to place, Taiwan to us, US to Taiwan. I can't decide if this is good or bad except it does seem easier to talk to people this way.

when I am with myself, I am not directly influenced by the love and hate of others. Things are calmer and yet the world also seems to matter less. When alone, I tend to instead of acting upon desire and emotions, question my own motives. Is it an attempt to understand or just a way to delay my own actions? Is it another way of copying the function of sleep? To keep myself immobile so to minimize the chance of hurt? I am not convinced either way.

this might be why I am attracted to people who are suffering, because I think I can ease their pain. This might be also why I tend to move on once that person's crisis is over, I am of no further use to the person so I took myself away. This might also be why I am attracted to people with a sense of purpose, because I am drawn like a moss to flame. Judging by those 2 attractions, I really should watch out for people who are determined to be miserable, for it would be a hell I willingly trap myself in.

I could not conceive people who are determined to be miserable at first, because while I do not experience high level of euphoria, I also do not taste despair that suck all your strength away. I could not understand people who are unable to be happy. I thought the search for happiness (understanding) is universal and basic, something evolution built in. I was proven wrong. I was made to see. It was Emily who talked me through it. She showed me, more by speech than by example, how some people are incapable of sustained peace or joy. That some people simply are not equipped to deal with happiness just like some people are not suited for pain. Happiness breaks people just as much as pain. If joy is a foreign object in your life, then you wouldn't know what to do with it, so some people push it away. It is either because of fear, guilt, self-denial, or any number of reasons that make us human. Perhaps, Emily is closer to the other side than I am and I can only hope she is as close as she has to be to the less lighter side.

it was a difficult lesson and difficult world she managed to show me. It was just as hard as showing a blind man what a rainbow looks like, I had no reference to connect my experience. It is perhaps her purpose in my life, to show me the other half of the world. Then after all these words and all these thought, I can't help but wonder, what was my purpose in her life?


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