I Vant To Be Left Alone

I love Greta Garbo. One of the most famous, not to mention mysterious, actresses of the 20th century. She had a famous line, one which is quoted the world over. Wikipedia has an entry on it, which I’ll quote here:

 Her famous byline was always said to be, “I want to be alone,” spoken with a heavy accent which made the word ‘want’ sound like vont. This quote as noted comes from her role in Grand Hotel. However, Garbo later commented, “I never said, ‘I want to be alone.’ I only said, ‘I want to be left alone.’ There is all the difference.”

I, like Greta the Great, wish to be left alone about certain things. A post has been left about me on someone else’s web page, whose page I will not promote here, that is incredibly degrading towards my character and does not entirely represent me as a person. While certain things that were posted are true, this person has misrepresented their own position, attitudes, and ideals in a misguided attempt at some retaliation, to gain the upper hand.

I suppose that I could take a persecution complex and say that this is just a part of the system that seeks to abuse me and destroy my life, as a bisexual in a homosexual relationship and as a de facto atheist, but I won’t. I invited a fair share of this on myself by trusting my opinions to someone who doesn’t care about them the way that I do. So, in that, I suppose an apology is due to this person and to myself for letting myself open up; it led to what has already transpired.

The whole thing, though, has made me realize that more and more, I want to utter the words of Greta the Great in desperation: I Vant To Be Left Alone. Not that I want to be alone, or that I want all of you who read this to run away without commenting or even giving me a little advice. It’s just that too often I find my life being assailed by neo-religious dogma instead of carefully thought out, tactful discussion. People keep telling me that it’s “just a phase, it’ll go away,” and I just want to scream at them and tell them that I’ve felt this way for years, I’ll continue feeling this way for years, and after those long years, I might just like it. People tell me I’m wrong, insist that their philosophies do not feed the hatred in the world, and they think that just because my people have been taking this kind of abuse for years that I’ll just lie down and take it, that I am their bitch for them to beat around. Well, I’m not. I hurt; I bleed: is that so hard to believe?

I am a people person; I like people, most of the time. More and more often, however, I’m beginning to truly understand just why Greta Garbo and others like her have uttered the words and lived the lives of recluses.

Rant over. Sorry about that, I hope that you’ll forgive me for being a bit pessimistic, but I have had these emotions pouring through me and I did not want them to fester. Now that they’re out, free, and unchained to roam away from here, I should be back to my normal, cheery, optimistic self.

What Freedom Means To Me

My philosophical self is back, I think. I’ve been thinking a lot about freedoms and liberties, and what they mean to me. Freedom, to me, is something that is most precious and dear. I cannot imagine giving up my fundamental rights for anyone, anywhere, at any time. Yet, so many do relinquish these freedoms for base pleasures and basic needs. In some countries, freedom must be relinquished to hold on to that which matters most: life itself. With that perspective, freedom means something great to me, something far greater than any American propaganda can tell me.

Freedom is the ability to say what one wants, when one wants. Without taking politics and national policies into account, everyone has this freedom. Add in the politics, however, and no one has this freedom. One wrong word, one wrong idea, one wrong opinion, and you could be removed from your position. Recently, Imus found this out, along with Stern and others. Before them, there was the era of McCarthyism, where anything that sounded “red” was censored. This is restriction of speech.

Freedom is the ability to live life as you are, without modifying oneself for the benefit of society. Any responsible person would willingly modify themselves to benefit society anyway, but it is out of their freedom, not their obligation to the state, that this ability is most appreciated.

In short: If you want to change me, just leave me alone. If you want me to change, then show me something I’ve never seen before. I might just modify it myself. Otherwise, I’m good.

That is what freedom means to be: the right to be me.

How To Break A Heart

A simple recipe for breaking my heart:

You’ll need good people, best when clumped together in a social setting, but alone will work. Mix in three inept leaders, stirring in underlying hatred and disgust. Stir it all up again within a building with loud music and lights. Wait for the heated reactions and the stares, and the disdain for difference smell will permeate the building quickly. Serve cold.

Seriously, though, I did something I knew I should not have done tonight. I went back to church. I wanted to see how it had fallen and if it was at all fixable. It was and is not.

Why is it that my heart is like ceramic, taking heat with little trouble but shattering upon the slightest impact? I gave my all and it seems to be under appreciated, if it is appreciated at all. Maybe it’s just my bleeding heart, but I’m sad for those people and that church. I feel they love me and hate me all at the same time.

Perhaps it is just my imagination, however. Who knows? Sleep will fix this.

A Quick Quack

I feel like a duck.

All ducks ever do is quack at people. They don’t have to make any sense, just quack quack. That’s what this post feels like: something to give you that is conspicuously devoid of any informational or entertaining content. I hate feeling like I’m worthless and useless. Of course, this probably isn’t true, but I’m just devoid of topics to write about.

I’m all philosophized out.

Social Responsibility

I just want to make a quick post in memory of the thirty-three that lost their lives in Virginia. They lost their lives not only to a cold-blooded killer but to a society that has lost it’s memory of why we are social in the first place. They stand as an eternal memorial of our failures as much as the killer’s failures.

I am a firm believer in the ability to change. I believe that the killer, whose name I won’t mention, is not only the perpetrator of a vast crime against humanity, but a victim of that humanity also. Certainly, it was his decision to commit the crime. It is also certain that, while tragic, he meted out his own punishment, certainly the one we would have given him: death. However, it remains to be seen whether anything we as a society and those who were close to him could have changed anything within their actions towards him. While he is guilty, please do not fall for the trap that we are therefore innocent. The two things are not mutually exclusive.

Rest in Peace.

Life is Busy

Life is so damned busy. I say this because I have room to talk. Between keeping up with my boyfriend, writing papers for school, writing for pleasure, working for money, and trying to write the “Great American Novel,” I’m really quite tired. My life is getting so full, and I can’t reverse that. If I could only write that novel and get it sold, maybe I wouldn’t have to work at a pizza joint to support myself. Perhaps I’m just pipe-dreaming.

Hopefully, I’ll have some more for you soon. I’m going to post some of my most recent poetry, to sate your undying hunger for my writing. Believe me when I say I appreciate your desire for my writing. It makes me feel good.