Lies
I had a conversation with my Aunt lately, about the invasion of privacy that both Facebook and Livejournal represent. Being an intensely private person, I sympathized with her reluctance to join Facebook until very recently. The thing most people don't realize, I think, about such venues for self-expression, is just how easy it is to turn something that is meant to introduce one's self to the world into a very successful misinformation campaign. Call it throwing up a smoke-screen about who you really are. I have been Silver on this page for a very long time now, and I can think of maybe a handful of posts that are completely, honestly, 100% the Real Me. It is not that I made this page to lie, only that there is so very little you can learn about a person from a web-page. Take the CIA World Fact-book. You can read about the stats of France for hours and never come close to what it is like to walk down the streets of Paris. So in the interest of sharing myself, something I am going to make a conscious effort to do, at times, I give you these few truths:
I will never lie when asked a direct question. Never. Of course, how complex the question will need to be will depend on how little I wish to answer the question/ how little you need to know about the answer. But if you find a way to ask exactly what you wish to know, I will never lie. This extreme form of hemming in usually only occurs if there is a really good reason why I don't want to answer, otherwise, just ask.
I will always keep secrets. This is the one exception to the above statement. Secrets are something I am very partial to and very sentimental about. Most people already know that they can tell me practically anything and it won't phase me or cause me to talk about them, it is something I, if not precisely enjoy, value. My mother calls us Listeners. I have found quite a few others out there, and yes, I do talk to them about myself, it's a mutual thing. Even Listeners need to be listened to.
I am very gifted at lying. I don't say that often, because it is not something people really want to hear. It is not seen as a gift. Also, the moment you tell someone how very good you are at something reprehensible like that is the moment they doubt everything that you have ever said/will ever say. I have no tells. I don't even sweat anymore. Given all of that, I make great pains to tell as much of the truth as I can at any given moment. Just because I can do something does not mean that I am going to. Think of people who do martial arts and how little they go around breaking kneecaps. Same principal.
I have a mild form of social anxiety. Going out in public makes me nauseous, how nauseous is dependent on what kind of social function. I do really badly with people in my personal space (unless I have had alcohol, and even then it's iffy; sometimes drinking makes me more anxious about being touched).
I really, really hate sexism. I hate it with a only recently developed passion that surpasses all other irritations in my life. My first instinct when hearing someone make a sexist comment, male, female or those who have yet to make up their minds, is to instinctively start to react with extremely violent behavior, be it verbally or physically. It doesn't mean I won't play on another persons' bigoted misconceptions, I'll do it if I have to. But I live my life by example. It has taken me a long time to admit the fact that sexism matters because I have always believed that if I lived my life as if my sex didn't matter to my abilities, than those around me would understand that there is no difference. I was wrong.
I think extraordinarily fast. I don't mean to say that I am very smart or very analytical, I only mean to say that the minute my brain fixes on something it has already sped past three other alternatives and their pathways and has circled back around to something else entirely. It's where the phrase "Sarah-logic" comes from. It is also why it takes me half an hour to fall asleep at night. And why I laugh at inappropraite moments. I am paranoid by nature and will map out everything around an object, person or situation to as many angles as possible. It is, I suspect, part of what makes me so good at lying.
I have an extremely overactive imagination. I can scare myself by thinking too hard. I can also have day-dreams in 3-D color cinema. I have extremely vivid dreams/nightmares and tend to remember almost every single one. Sometimes it is the one thing about myself that I really enjoy. Sometimes my thoughts are almost addictively beguiling to myself.
I can think myself into almost any emotion, and I can shut them off like a light-switch. This is something I am trying to work on.
I rarely ever cry when I am sad, though I can be counted on to cry during films. I really cry almost exclusively when I am angry or frustrated. It is on of the things I dislike about our society, because when a female cries, everyone around them automatically responds by either feeling bad or feeling disgusted at the weakness. I hate to cry when I'm angry/frustrated, but it is either that or do something about the feeling.
I operate under a normal, light depression. I would tend to call it moodiness or simply my melodramatic nature. It makes it possible for me to produce my art. I am not clinically depressed, nor do I need cheering up, but my happiness is usually tempered with a pall of gray.
And there it is. A few, brief truths about myself. I am sure that they are things that are easy to infer or to discover, but they are true.
I will never lie when asked a direct question. Never. Of course, how complex the question will need to be will depend on how little I wish to answer the question/ how little you need to know about the answer. But if you find a way to ask exactly what you wish to know, I will never lie. This extreme form of hemming in usually only occurs if there is a really good reason why I don't want to answer, otherwise, just ask.
I will always keep secrets. This is the one exception to the above statement. Secrets are something I am very partial to and very sentimental about. Most people already know that they can tell me practically anything and it won't phase me or cause me to talk about them, it is something I, if not precisely enjoy, value. My mother calls us Listeners. I have found quite a few others out there, and yes, I do talk to them about myself, it's a mutual thing. Even Listeners need to be listened to.
I am very gifted at lying. I don't say that often, because it is not something people really want to hear. It is not seen as a gift. Also, the moment you tell someone how very good you are at something reprehensible like that is the moment they doubt everything that you have ever said/will ever say. I have no tells. I don't even sweat anymore. Given all of that, I make great pains to tell as much of the truth as I can at any given moment. Just because I can do something does not mean that I am going to. Think of people who do martial arts and how little they go around breaking kneecaps. Same principal.
I have a mild form of social anxiety. Going out in public makes me nauseous, how nauseous is dependent on what kind of social function. I do really badly with people in my personal space (unless I have had alcohol, and even then it's iffy; sometimes drinking makes me more anxious about being touched).
I really, really hate sexism. I hate it with a only recently developed passion that surpasses all other irritations in my life. My first instinct when hearing someone make a sexist comment, male, female or those who have yet to make up their minds, is to instinctively start to react with extremely violent behavior, be it verbally or physically. It doesn't mean I won't play on another persons' bigoted misconceptions, I'll do it if I have to. But I live my life by example. It has taken me a long time to admit the fact that sexism matters because I have always believed that if I lived my life as if my sex didn't matter to my abilities, than those around me would understand that there is no difference. I was wrong.
I think extraordinarily fast. I don't mean to say that I am very smart or very analytical, I only mean to say that the minute my brain fixes on something it has already sped past three other alternatives and their pathways and has circled back around to something else entirely. It's where the phrase "Sarah-logic" comes from. It is also why it takes me half an hour to fall asleep at night. And why I laugh at inappropraite moments. I am paranoid by nature and will map out everything around an object, person or situation to as many angles as possible. It is, I suspect, part of what makes me so good at lying.
I have an extremely overactive imagination. I can scare myself by thinking too hard. I can also have day-dreams in 3-D color cinema. I have extremely vivid dreams/nightmares and tend to remember almost every single one. Sometimes it is the one thing about myself that I really enjoy. Sometimes my thoughts are almost addictively beguiling to myself.
I can think myself into almost any emotion, and I can shut them off like a light-switch. This is something I am trying to work on.
I rarely ever cry when I am sad, though I can be counted on to cry during films. I really cry almost exclusively when I am angry or frustrated. It is on of the things I dislike about our society, because when a female cries, everyone around them automatically responds by either feeling bad or feeling disgusted at the weakness. I hate to cry when I'm angry/frustrated, but it is either that or do something about the feeling.
I operate under a normal, light depression. I would tend to call it moodiness or simply my melodramatic nature. It makes it possible for me to produce my art. I am not clinically depressed, nor do I need cheering up, but my happiness is usually tempered with a pall of gray.
And there it is. A few, brief truths about myself. I am sure that they are things that are easy to infer or to discover, but they are true.