Of Whom Do You Speak?

I think you’re a fool.  You push those who care away and embrace ones who make you miserable, and are stupid enough to think that those actions will make you happy.

I think you’re an idiot.  You blame everyone else and never take responsibility for your own shortcomings.

I think you’re ignorant.  You don’t bother to learn the facts of anything before judging it, yet are hypocritical enough to say that people should not judge you without knowing you.

I think you’re a coward.  You hide behind what is “best for you” when you should be doing what is right.

I think you’re filled with good intentions, but what do you really do about any of the mistakes you see others make?  You’re so full of inner demons you refuse to acknowledge, you would guide others down wrong paths.

I think you’re ridiculous.  You say you’re anti-social, yet you make such stupid claims as what you did to me, so therefore you push someone else away.  You’re goin to wind up very lonely and very depressed lin life if you continue.  And in all honesty, I don’t care, because you’ll have brought it all on yourself.

I think you’re afraid.  You don’t want to get close to anyone, so you hide behind your defenses.  One day, though, someone will break through that wall.

I think you’re insecure.  But you’re improving and have definitely found someone to help you overcome those things.

I think . . .
that there are so many things people are afraid to write about in their diaries that they have to encode it into entries like this.  Because let’s face it: if I wrote a one hundred percent, unabashed version of everything I thought, just as if this was a real diary that only I read, I’d be lynched.  I can’t write my true thoughts of anger or despair towards others, ever, because they couldn’t acept it.  No matter how much they say they could.

Yes.  These sentences are all about different people that I know.  Each one is someone different.  But I bet no one will know who.

In an interesting way, this is a writing exercise.  Seeing if I can convey information to others, but not enough that I give away who it is I’m speaking about.

You can guess if you want to.  But I will neither confirm nor deny anything in this diary.