I have decided to close this blog. Here is an ode to Summa Amare.
This is a story of a little girl who was left on her own as a child, no friend to talk to and play with. She created an imaginary friend who told her that one day he would take her away from her silly family and show her the world.
It is a story of a girl who happens to be very smart, but not from a place of smugness like someone who went to private school. She grew up extremely poor and even worked on the farm as a child and picked tomatoes over the summer holidays. She was tormented and bullied by her older siblings who never ceased to mistreat her and tell her that she was ugly and stupid and the little girl believed that must be true. Her dad was from a culture where being masculine and violent was important for his paternal role and her mother was lonely and heartbroken. It was her teachers and other students in class praising her for how smart she was that made her see kindness for the first time and so she spent the rest of her life addicted to school.
And so that little girl grew up and she didn’t understand how to do things the way everyone else did. She was still a happy person, but she never had anyone to talk to, never had anyone to make her feel a little confident in herself. She thought she was ugly and so never had a boyfriend. She was still pretty cool, though, her sense of humour made people laugh and everyone wanted to be her friend. She loved them, helped so many people, supported them when they were struggling but while they wanted her to be their friend, they were never her friend, never helped her or supported her. She was still alone as she was when she was a child. All she ever wanted was someone that would acknowledge her and be there for her. So she became friends with Jesus, with Socrates and with philosophers and writers as she waited.
Then one day she met a man and he had something about him, the same intelligence hidden inside of him, almost like her, natural, but it was like he was hiding it or maybe he didn’t even know it because he wanted people to like him and these people all happened to be rather dumb. He was a little crazy, but then so was she. She started to like him, in a very gentle way, the first time she ever liked someone. She suddenly became aware of herself, conscious of herself for the first time, and wanted to be his friend.
But he really hated her and she didn’t know why. It made her remember that she was alone. He treated her badly and she didn’t know what to do, how to act, she had no one to turn to and the pain was quite tremendous that she always felt shaken and sad. She was really hurting and cried a lot because he was really mean to her. She almost died and so to stop the pain she made herself believe that he was only mean to her because he liked her.
He didn’t. She only just realised that about a week ago. She realised the hope she had believed in and that kept her going was a trick she played on herself, that the boy she loved was not real. She realised that the truth is, the reality is, she is still alone searching for that imaginary friend.~
Only about a week ago, I collapsed again emotionally. This was the third time over the last few years and I know it is the last time because I finally faced the truth. It is experiencing authenticity for the first time and I know from this point forward it is to find the courage to accept the truth as it is. I imagined possibilities that were unreal so that I could escape from the fact that I was alone. My desire to be acknowledged was deep and when I wanted that acknowledgement for the first time from a man, he instead did the exact opposite and I lost all my confidence in myself.
I started this blog almost as a process of healing by articulating this ongoing confusion in my emotional thoughts as well as piecing together my philosophical position that was broad and lacked focus. I was tormented by feelings of grief and so the acknowledgment on this blog – however small – enabled me to believe in myself in some small way, as did Facebook and studying. In the nature of this authenticity, the blog was also secretly – unconsciously – a continuation of this imagination, a way of pretending to myself that there was a readership out there that understood me because I am still searching for a friend, I was still hoping.
Power is a type of energy. It can influence focus and solidify the body to act in a manner that motivates incredible physical energy. When one feels sad, when they feel hurt, hated and rejected that sense of power is lost, there is no energy that wills a person to a goal. Hope is just a superficial energy. I know now that I need to find that sense of empowerment, that courage through honesty.
I have decided to start a new blog that follows the real me. I will be archiving the posts here as a journal for what will be my past and I will be changing everything about what and how I write. I am drawing focus intellectually on one subject – the Palestine/Israeli issues – as I start a new job, move into a new home, and learn to live with courage. Hope is delusional, it is heart-breaking and keeps one stuck as I have been for the last few years. Honesty is the only real hope.It is time to put it all to rest.