You and I should get along so awfully
Twice in the past week I have had obvious chances to "do the right thing", and have not. Not sure why but it's bothering me.
Last Friday when I was racing back home to see that shitty apartment, I was going down the Red line stairs at Roosevelt and State and this woman had a baby carriage along with a young child walking on it's own. It was one of those grossly obscene carriages that are unnecessarily large and no doubt unbelievably expensive. Instead of taking the elevator to the left for whatever reason, she was just about to begin pulling the carriage up the stairs backwards while at the same time making sure her other child did not run off.
I walked past her and did not help.
Yesterday, upon exiting the train at Belmont I came down the stairs and went through the glass doors into the station to cut through. A woman was struggling with an oversized suitcase. I did not bother to hold the door for her.
This is not a defense, but I find interacting with people to be uncomfortable. I don't like people. I judge all based on what I've seen. And I know we are not all that different. Furthermore, my disgust with my own self and how I am is projected against the people I see every day. And, I hate them because they do not see how volatile they are... "If I can see it in myself, why can't they?" is the basic attitude.
I walk by smokers spitting disgusting hockers on the sidewalk I have to avoid stepping in. I see kids walking down the street throwing their half empty coke bottles on the ground. People yapping on their cellphones, completely ignorant of anyone else around them... both on foot and in cars. I see people whose sole concern is themselves and no one else.... and I know I am just the same way.
But, the difference, I think... I consider those people dangerous. I'd assume anyone of them would kill me to save their own skins. I have a conscience. I know it's in there. I feel it in every thought and action. I don't believe all, if any of them, do have one. People scare me. I'd feel safer standing across from a lion than a human being.
At least a wild animal is following its nature. A human being kills with intent, but is crafty and blames it on "nature" as if they had no choice in the matter. And I am all about the existence of choice.
Why don't I help people? Because I want to get home as fast as I can just so I can BE in the apartment I pay for more than two hours a day before I have to go to sleep? Because I am embarrassed to make any kind of scene or draw any attention to myself in public lest I turn beat red and look like a kiss ass? Because I believe none of them would have the courtesy to do any good to anyone else?
It doesn't necessarily bother me that most people consider me the most angry, hateful person they know... per say... But the time comes when you go from speaking out against something that bugs you to becoming that which made you angry in the first place. And, if that's one comical lesson life has taught me over and over again, it's that you DO become that which you hate. Sometimes so subtly you never see the transition.
I don't like people. It's a gut feeling. I don't trust them. I don't want to be around them. They frighten me. Not in a social anxiety kind of way, but in a life-threatening situation kind of way. It makes living in a city that much more difficult.
It's just funny to feel so much hate so blindly. Now, Miss Managed... the hate there makes sense. But I feel almost the same degree of disgust on any given day to any random ten strangers in the same train car.
Last Friday when I was racing back home to see that shitty apartment, I was going down the Red line stairs at Roosevelt and State and this woman had a baby carriage along with a young child walking on it's own. It was one of those grossly obscene carriages that are unnecessarily large and no doubt unbelievably expensive. Instead of taking the elevator to the left for whatever reason, she was just about to begin pulling the carriage up the stairs backwards while at the same time making sure her other child did not run off.
I walked past her and did not help.
Yesterday, upon exiting the train at Belmont I came down the stairs and went through the glass doors into the station to cut through. A woman was struggling with an oversized suitcase. I did not bother to hold the door for her.
This is not a defense, but I find interacting with people to be uncomfortable. I don't like people. I judge all based on what I've seen. And I know we are not all that different. Furthermore, my disgust with my own self and how I am is projected against the people I see every day. And, I hate them because they do not see how volatile they are... "If I can see it in myself, why can't they?" is the basic attitude.
I walk by smokers spitting disgusting hockers on the sidewalk I have to avoid stepping in. I see kids walking down the street throwing their half empty coke bottles on the ground. People yapping on their cellphones, completely ignorant of anyone else around them... both on foot and in cars. I see people whose sole concern is themselves and no one else.... and I know I am just the same way.
But, the difference, I think... I consider those people dangerous. I'd assume anyone of them would kill me to save their own skins. I have a conscience. I know it's in there. I feel it in every thought and action. I don't believe all, if any of them, do have one. People scare me. I'd feel safer standing across from a lion than a human being.
At least a wild animal is following its nature. A human being kills with intent, but is crafty and blames it on "nature" as if they had no choice in the matter. And I am all about the existence of choice.
Why don't I help people? Because I want to get home as fast as I can just so I can BE in the apartment I pay for more than two hours a day before I have to go to sleep? Because I am embarrassed to make any kind of scene or draw any attention to myself in public lest I turn beat red and look like a kiss ass? Because I believe none of them would have the courtesy to do any good to anyone else?
It doesn't necessarily bother me that most people consider me the most angry, hateful person they know... per say... But the time comes when you go from speaking out against something that bugs you to becoming that which made you angry in the first place. And, if that's one comical lesson life has taught me over and over again, it's that you DO become that which you hate. Sometimes so subtly you never see the transition.
I don't like people. It's a gut feeling. I don't trust them. I don't want to be around them. They frighten me. Not in a social anxiety kind of way, but in a life-threatening situation kind of way. It makes living in a city that much more difficult.
It's just funny to feel so much hate so blindly. Now, Miss Managed... the hate there makes sense. But I feel almost the same degree of disgust on any given day to any random ten strangers in the same train car.