Friday 25 January 2013


We may spend our lives surrounded by people, but we are always alone. Most times we don’t think about it or maybe don’t consider it at all, but we are alone.

I was spending time with Tornado today and there was a time or two when he just couldn't get across to his thick Poppa what he wanted to say. I have that trouble too. I know what I want to say and I think that I am saying it, but more often than not, the people I am talking to just don’t get it. This blog is partly a way to improve my skills at communicating my thoughts. I don’t think it is particularly effective. I think the problem is that I am all alone inside and so is everyone else, so we develop our ideas and tweak them to fit with the way we think not the way others will understand.

Sometimes when someone commits suicide, it comes as a shock to the people that he or she has been close to. “He seemed to be such a happy, outgoing person.” We all have a public persona that allows us to get through every day and often it isn't even close to who we really are. I consider myself to be a quiet and rather shy person who has managed to learn how to be outgoing and personable. If it weren't for family and friends, I suspect that I would be a hermit in the classic sense, living in a cave and shunning people.

The market for hermits isn't what it used to be in the olden days when hermits were considered to be wise men or women that spent their lives contemplating the secrets of the world. People would bring food and clothing just to be blessed by the hermit. Now, they are just thought to be flakes. I think they actually fall somewhere in between being wise and being foolish. You just never really know what is going on in someone’s head, so maybe you should toss them a coin, you might get a punch in the mouth but you just might get a blessing. 

I feel sorry for kids because they are almost never asked what they think of anything and when they do speak, no one really listens. Their friends listen, but no one listens to them. Perhaps that is why grand parents are so important. We have the time to listen and whether we actually pay attention, it seems like we do which can give the kids an outlet for their thoughts. I only knew my grandmother on my father’s side, and she was very special to me. She didn't like men very much, but she did like little boys and knew how to keep us feeling needed and important. I kind of wish I had known my other grand parents. Not only because it would have given me hope for a long life, but perhaps I wouldn't have to wait six decades before I felt happy in my skin.

I will stay alone, with many friends and family to keep my public persona company.  

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