A Child's Game called Shame
This is shame, according to wiki:
Shame (also called ignominy) is the consciousness or awareness of dishonor, disgrace, or condemnation. Genuine shame is associated with genuine dishonor, disgrace, or condemnation. False shame is associated with false condemnation as in the double-bind form of false shaming; "he brought what we did to him upon himself". Therapist John Bradshaw calls shame the "emotion that lets us know we are finite".
Why am I writing about shame? Goodness knows.
I suppose I was prompted by my subconscious self, or another being that affects my conscious mind discreetly.
So, I'm impolite and the way I talk generally makes it sound as if I'm belittling the people around me. That's fantastic, isn't it? I'm constantly patronising people with my words. I act as if I'm so fabulous, even though I'm horribly flawed, as are most -if not all- humans.
I do know that I'm an idiot, I just need to learn to have an absolutely constant reminder of it.
It's fine when I'm all by myself in this room, void of human companionship, but when I get into a conversation, I'm such a social retard that I have to concentrate on making a conversation that interests the other party/ parties that I'm just helpless. Useless. Trust me to be less that in control.
Oh yes, by the way, the dear 'melzzy' realised in Bath how insecure the sheepy is. Does she remember? Hmm... goodness knows.
I remember. Now there's a reminder that's able to tick on every so often.
If it would be possible, I'd quite like to destroy that infuriating tick. So much so that all the particles collide with corresponding antiparticles and are converted into photons. Those photons will then find themselves being shaken out of existence.
Molecule by molecule isn't good enough these days, it seems.
Who are we to make such high demands?
Oh yes, shame.
I think that there is a difference between guilt and shame. The difference that seems to be felt in usage around the English language is that one feels guilty when regretting one's own actions, but shame can be thrust upon one, though not of one's own fault, but perhaps for the unfortunate fault of being related to someone who has done something that causes embarassment and such to one.
Shame would be connected to embarassment, and guilt to regret.
Shame. It brings about 'toxic' feelings. I suppose, in essence, one is punishing one's self by inducing an intense negative flow around one's body.
Make ya feel better? No? Thought not. *insert weak smile -tinged with what is definitely a touch of sadness- here*
Sometimes, humans find themselves so worthless that they aren't near worth the expensive legal procedures, the work put into it and the stationary Human Rights end up written (in hard copy) on.
Heard it before? Yeah. Good for you. I'm glad you have the capacity to understand this is such a way that you are able to recognise a portion of this. Means you're not completely worthles-
Hmm. The paragraph directly above is an example of the patronisation I'm capable of and exert on a basis much more regular than it deserves to be.
When people say stuff to me and I'm not allowed to retort, to defend myself, I find myself able to come up with somewhat interesting little ditties. Probably because I let myself have more thinking time, whereas in a real conversation, I have to think faster than I have the capacity to (retarded [French: retard. English: slow], my thoughts are, in comparison to people who are actually witty).
If only I could keep my opinions purely mine, instead of infiltrated with that of others. Perhaps if I hadn't forced myself as a child, I would be able to go ahead and say: I don't have an opinion, sorry.
Who knows; who knows not.
I am currently being stared at by a panda, a seal, a duck, a one-eyed tiger and a whole bunch of Huskys.
Anyway, there are fireworks going on outside, so I'll take the queue to wrap this up. It's been about an hour, I guess. Hasn't it?
Well, my internet history won't tell me.
I still need to find something note with the right sort of air to end on.
Some idiot has grabbed a poem of mine, shoved it up on some website where I can't take it down (so that spambots can get my email addy????????????) and posted an absolutely idiotic 'hey this is fun, add your name to this list' as a "discussion" O.O
Now, I'm holding a distinct lack of regard for the human race as a whole. Brilliant. Fabulous. This calls for sugar. Or Pocky.
Yup, definitely Pocky.
Ac
Shame (also called ignominy) is the consciousness or awareness of dishonor, disgrace, or condemnation. Genuine shame is associated with genuine dishonor, disgrace, or condemnation. False shame is associated with false condemnation as in the double-bind form of false shaming; "he brought what we did to him upon himself". Therapist John Bradshaw calls shame the "emotion that lets us know we are finite".
Why am I writing about shame? Goodness knows.
I suppose I was prompted by my subconscious self, or another being that affects my conscious mind discreetly.
So, I'm impolite and the way I talk generally makes it sound as if I'm belittling the people around me. That's fantastic, isn't it? I'm constantly patronising people with my words. I act as if I'm so fabulous, even though I'm horribly flawed, as are most -if not all- humans.
I do know that I'm an idiot, I just need to learn to have an absolutely constant reminder of it.
It's fine when I'm all by myself in this room, void of human companionship, but when I get into a conversation, I'm such a social retard that I have to concentrate on making a conversation that interests the other party/ parties that I'm just helpless. Useless. Trust me to be less that in control.
Oh yes, by the way, the dear 'melzzy' realised in Bath how insecure the sheepy is. Does she remember? Hmm... goodness knows.
I remember. Now there's a reminder that's able to tick on every so often.
If it would be possible, I'd quite like to destroy that infuriating tick. So much so that all the particles collide with corresponding antiparticles and are converted into photons. Those photons will then find themselves being shaken out of existence.
Molecule by molecule isn't good enough these days, it seems.
Who are we to make such high demands?
Oh yes, shame.
I think that there is a difference between guilt and shame. The difference that seems to be felt in usage around the English language is that one feels guilty when regretting one's own actions, but shame can be thrust upon one, though not of one's own fault, but perhaps for the unfortunate fault of being related to someone who has done something that causes embarassment and such to one.
Shame would be connected to embarassment, and guilt to regret.
Shame. It brings about 'toxic' feelings. I suppose, in essence, one is punishing one's self by inducing an intense negative flow around one's body.
Make ya feel better? No? Thought not. *insert weak smile -tinged with what is definitely a touch of sadness- here*
Sometimes, humans find themselves so worthless that they aren't near worth the expensive legal procedures, the work put into it and the stationary Human Rights end up written (in hard copy) on.
Heard it before? Yeah. Good for you. I'm glad you have the capacity to understand this is such a way that you are able to recognise a portion of this. Means you're not completely worthles-
Hmm. The paragraph directly above is an example of the patronisation I'm capable of and exert on a basis much more regular than it deserves to be.
When people say stuff to me and I'm not allowed to retort, to defend myself, I find myself able to come up with somewhat interesting little ditties. Probably because I let myself have more thinking time, whereas in a real conversation, I have to think faster than I have the capacity to (retarded [French: retard. English: slow], my thoughts are, in comparison to people who are actually witty).
If only I could keep my opinions purely mine, instead of infiltrated with that of others. Perhaps if I hadn't forced myself as a child, I would be able to go ahead and say: I don't have an opinion, sorry.
Who knows; who knows not.
I am currently being stared at by a panda, a seal, a duck, a one-eyed tiger and a whole bunch of Huskys.
Anyway, there are fireworks going on outside, so I'll take the queue to wrap this up. It's been about an hour, I guess. Hasn't it?
Well, my internet history won't tell me.
I still need to find something note with the right sort of air to end on.
Some idiot has grabbed a poem of mine, shoved it up on some website where I can't take it down (so that spambots can get my email addy????????????) and posted an absolutely idiotic 'hey this is fun, add your name to this list' as a "discussion" O.O
Now, I'm holding a distinct lack of regard for the human race as a whole. Brilliant. Fabulous. This calls for sugar. Or Pocky.
Yup, definitely Pocky.
Ac