A Sudden Inspiration - The Longing To Be "Unknown"

Nov 25, 2007 18:36

It's very often that we all wish that we were strangers in everyone's eyes. I admit . . . I am a criminal when it comes to this. When you're a stranger to someone, they don't know you, have no opinion of you, and can't think ill of you. They only see your face, your eyes, it's dark mystery. Your smile and your false happiness. That's the beauty of a "perfect stranger"; you can make anything up about them and your mind is convinced that it's the truth. You draw a picture of perfection and stick to it. And then as we get to know them, that picture is erased, redrawn, erased, and redrawn, over and over again.

That's why the "spark" in relationships fade. We go into a relationship with a picture of "the one" in our mind and we force these qualities upon that person unknowingly, and later when we start to know, actually know the other, we think they've changed when really . . . they haven't. You've merely drawn a different picture, an actual life portrait, not a fantasy drawing. We all want someone to think of us as someone we're not. It's more interesting that way. We don't want people to know who we really are.

This quote was my inspiration: "To those of you who think you know me, I forgive you." In some cases, we aren't fully known, but I think most of that is we're more misunderstood than "unknown". We have misconceptions towards others.  Unknown is meeting someone on the street and merely glancing towards them and moving on. That's true mystery. But we don't care about that mystery unless we are drawn to them. If we are drawn, that's when the mystery becomes enticing. And with one conversation, the drawing starts. You can't have one conversation and know someone, but you begin your "work of art" so to speak, the perfect person in your head. Now . . . misconception. That is different. That is knowing someone, but taking the person that you KNOW they are and completely changing them into someone else in your mind, but not knowing that you do this . . .

Okay . . . I'm done. For now. I just had to sing a lullaby to my 22 year old husband. Haha. He's my big baby sometimes. *cuddle cuddle*

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
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