The lost art of really listening to people. The secret to it is we communicated with our bodies. Open stances or closed stances, fiddling and looking away, shifting glances, wild gestures or uncomfortable arm crossing. The saying “Actions speak louder than words” is a lot of the time true. That’s why reading body language helps tell us when we are being lied to or how people really feel versus what they are saying. A good listener can see these things. A true listener can start to understand someone better by these things. Seeing how a person responds physically can communicate their insecurities and their confidences, the things they like and dislike, and also whether they are extremely selfish or are relaxed and loving. Someone who really listens can see right through people.
Then sometimes silence (or the lack of action) speaks louder than words. Whether that inaction is someone saying one thing and doing another or being completely passive and not communicating at all.
That’s why I wrote a song called “Silence is death”
I wrote this because the lack of communication is a huge scream in itself. Crying silently, suffering in silence, sighing silently. It’s all a way of showing a burden, communicating pain or indifference. Especially indifference. “The silent treatment” is a way to communicate my pain that doesn’t need words to describe it. Everyone knows what it is. Everyone understands why. It’s because sometimes the amount of weight I’m carrying inside me is boiling under my skin and its turning my eyes red and soggy, its breaking me so much I can’t even speak. Sometimes the silence is necessary because I’m screaming so loud on the inside I can’t bear to speak anymore. Or maybe its the opposite, maybe it’s because the world and people around me are so loud I can’t handle the noise anymore so I stopped trying and shut down. Maybe I’m too tired of this sick mess to speak anymore. Words fall short of the things I want to say.
This is why people say things like this:
“If you’re really listening, if you’re awake to the poignant beauty of the world, your heart breaks regularly. In fact, your heart is made to break; its purpose is to burst open again and again so that it can hold evermore wonders.”
― Andrew Harvey
Sometimes its really hard to be bursting at the seems like this always. I take a chill pill and reseed into a happy numbness, which sometimes solves the problems and I start to see that I don’t have to hate and hurt from all the noise around me and inside me. I can let it out and in and breathe and be one with it or separate my self from it. Nothing is permanent. But I do wear my anger on my heart and not on my skin. I wear it on the inside where it festers and starts to boil again and I start my silence.
There’s a difference between serenity and being numb.
Communicating like this isn’t all there is though. Sometimes small talk and social interaction in the trivial pursuits can be a fueling ground for socialites or a draining all-consuming pit of terror. Sometimes I love to gossip and joke with my friends, and other times it tears me apart inside to hear idiotic and pointless words. I get so upset I give a silent tantrum and stop speaking to people.
‘Cause I’ve seen more spine on jellyfish
I’ve seen more guts in eleven year old kids
Have another drink and drive yourself home
I hope there’s ice on all the roads
And you can think of me when you forget your seatbelt
And again when your head goes through the windshield
Is that what you call tact?
You’re as subtle as a brick
In the small of my back
So let’s end this call and end this conversation
This is my problem. It leads to me never believing that others can love me, because I’m simply not worthy of it.
It isn’t women that I don’t believe though, I mostly trust girls. But I can’t trust guys, (sorry if this sounds sexist but… it has been my overarching experience through my life).
I’ve never been good enough for my dad, never strong enough to chop wood or athletic enough to draw the attention of my Dad’s dad, (my grandad). I was never good enough for a lot of guys I liked or dated in the past. There was always something about me that needed to change for them to be pleased. Mostly my body. I was never enough for a lot of other people because they wanted me to be there constantly, and well, I have a life I need to live too.
I’ve never felt good enough to love someone else because of this. As if I wasn’t worth enough to give someone else adoration. But then at the same time I’m too worthless not too, because everyone else must be more deserving than I to receive love. I’ve felt so unworthy in the past that I just summed it up to being incapable of loving others. Incapable of commitment and loyalty because I’m not good enough anyways.
“A Bed Full of Safety”
Even though I have no reason to really think I’m not enough right now. I know I’m talented, intelligent, strong, and mature, I can’t shake the feeling of never being good enough. I can’t help but remember that I couldn’t love, and I couldn’t truly be loved by others, I can’t stop feeling helpless in the fact that I’m just starting to live, just learning how to be.
But being isn’t easy.
I know I shouldn’t believe that I am not enough, but it’s hard to not believe it when I’ve disappointed so many people.
1. Some how reacquaint myself with Alejandro
2. Get more people to accidentally flirt with
3. Cuddle with everyone
4. Fail an audition
5. Environmental Science class is still not accomplishing anything
6.English Composition II is still not accomplishing anything
7. Be annoyed by my ENG II teacher
8. Talk to Dr. Teacher
9. Send love notes
10. Get rejected
11. Cry pitifully to oneself during class
12. Throw papers manically.
13. Throw oneself onto couch in desparity
14. Devise evil plans
15. Watch stupid videos
16. Facebook too much
17. Listen to depressing music
18. Argue with That Pirate Kid
19. Get Married
20. Disappoint my father
21. Dont drive
22. Drink a lot of tea
23. Microwave a lot of tea and meals
24. Eat alone
25. SHIT TON OF MOISTURIZER
26. LIP BALM
27. Have cold hands
28. Play guitar till my fingers almost bleed and my hand falls asleep.
30. Try to forget
31. Get depressed by the holidays
32. Cancel New Year’s Eve Party because I hate everyone
33. Unfriend a lot of people on facebook like a pro
34. Go shopping.
35. Video game therapy.
36. Block people on Xbox
37. Make new friends
38. Scrap four blog posts.
39. Pretend to do work .
40. Write long lists.
41. Go to Church
42. Send this link to people
The Queen Bee and Fey
1. A story about a penguin fetish – goes to zoo and tries to steal one in a backpack.
2. Judging someone by their shoes – being wrong
3. A feud that divides a class in half.
4. Meaningless sadness – being sad anyways
5. A story from the perspective of food.
6. Cannibalizing someone and from the eaten’s perspective.
7. Disaster date – disaster month.
8. Friends trying to reunite and doesn’t work
9. Long distance relationship, one day they meet in person it doesn’t work.
10. Love labor lost………… 😥
11. Unrequited love for five or six years, getting it, and then hating it.
12. Awkward teenage boys.
13. Truth or dare gone wrong
14. Hating everybody
15. Depicting a young boy’s idea of a perfect date.
16. Eaves dropping – an old lady criticizing teenager’s conversations involved love and other trist’s.
18. Violence is not the answer – describe an interesting fight.
19. Children arguing over animals;
20. Tattoo analyzing – How did they appear?
21. awful teachers in college.
22. Fight of pretend friends – deeper insults in jokes. Assholes everywhere.
23. A story written in 1337 5p34k.
24. Hacker stuff – uncovering the truth about game/hacker culture – include 1337 and meme and doge.
25. Much list.
26. Very bullet
27. So concentrate.
28. Das boot ooh yah. (Hot guy singing in a German accent about a beer boot and how he eats everything out of it. It is 2 gallons)
29. English teacher whose students drive him into insanity. More absurd. Much obscene. Very mental. Such imbalance.
30. Pontification nothingness.
31. New YEARS eve two peeps getting cozy, by das boot fire. Plot twist: They are actually vampires and eat each other.
32. Puritan stoner lesbian cousins who are 10 years apart (20’s and 30s) Also adopt wiccan satanist who then murders the whole church.
33. All dialogue in a love story in 1337 5p34k. |>0||\|9 \-/0|_||2 |\/|0|\/|!
So… Internet language doesn’t bother me like it does with some Grammar Nazi’s I know. But…. some things that internet language takes away from communication does annoy me
Such as “Lol”,(see how I didn’t say [like]?), that instead of shorting the: jajajajaj or hahahah or *snorts* of virtual laughing. it just contributes to the Internets laziness. Just fucking write: jajajaj or ahahah or *chortles*
Gawd. (I just took the time to add a letter in the word to take the lords name in vain in a creative way. See what internet language can enrich??)
Anyways. I’ve always had beef with lol. Lol and I are not friends on any level. Not even the level where you recognise they walk in to the room. Not even the level where if someone brings them up in conversation you say an interesting thing you know about them. Nope. I will ignore lol to all levels.
Except this once. I must address my feud with lol.
Or maybe I won’t, I will just express how irrevocably angry I am at its existence. And unequivocally happy I am to say I never use lol to communicate with others. Not even in dire moments of speed texting. NOT EVEN when my father is yelling my name (my birth one followed by my misspelled middle name) to get my attention and make me feed my adorable witch cat named Onyx.
I do not use lol. Lol is laughing out loud— out loud at what? WHAT? A fucking meme? *facepalm*
Now asterisks are enriching dudes.