Monday, September 24, 2007     « Worthless IIII (Picture Menus Available at Window) »

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I don't know what the hell is going on but the last week has been a constant stream of pathetic attempts at contact with long-since ended friendships/acquaintanceships -- contact that feels more like being poked in the back of the head by a very long and fragile contraption comprised of several long sticks held together with scotch tape than direct, clear and honest communication. It's sort of like people leave your life for one reason or another and even though they don't really want to address the problems between you or have any real relationship they still want you to be available for occasional poking in the back of your skull with that sad and precarious stick whenever it suits them rather than just parting ways entirely.... or god forbid addressing the situation head-on (or sideways for that matter). Just tell me what you want already!

I want to be clear that while I am venting I am not painting myself as a hapless victim. I had as much a hand in cultivating what where inevitably poor relationships with these people as they did. As adults we formed bad relationships between each other collectively and I do not want to underestimate or downplay my part in that or act like I'm a victim of other people's insanity. I've engaged in plenty of my own craziness over the years -- in fact it was my own compliance and participation in the bad relationships that formed at least 50% of the inevitable mess that they were. But I am no longer that person that you can have a bad relationship with and then come back to after some time has passed and act like nothing happened and then we will together fall back quietly into the same old pattern and be done with it. And never speak of it EVER.

On the flip side I have had the experience of breaking up terribly with a friend and then coming back after some time has passed, hashing it out and forming a new friendship that acknowledges the past and is infinitely saner. Having experienced positive results from a very different kind of communication has turned me into a person who can't abide by that other way of non-functioning. I know how things can be. I refuse to go back. If we can't talk honestly then there is no relationship to speak of. Those who insist on poking me with the scotch-taped sad stick know where they can shove it.

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