Bee Gees Fan wrote:pandeiro wrote:You're a very kind person.
Just remember one thing as you travel through life, most people are not.
Thanks Pandeiro.
You're quite cynical, aren't you? I don't mean that as an insult - cynicism can be quite endearing, as a matter of fact - it's just something I've noticed.
Have you ever read
To Kill a Mockingbird? I try to think along the same lines as Atticus Finch at the end of the novel:
" 'An they chased him 'n' never could catch him 'cause they didn't know what he looked like, an' Atticus, when they finally saw him, why he hadn't done any of those things...Atticus, he was real nice...'
His hands were under my chin, pulling up the cover, tucking it around me.
'Most people are, Scout, when you finally see them.' "
I seem to remember reading it when I was a kid. I can't really remember it though. (The only American author I ever liked was Kerouac)
I'd not describe myself as a cynic. I think I am simply a realist. My life has been such that I had to face facts honestly quite early. I tend to agree with Sartre, that we are the result of our past experiences. What you see in my posts is the results of those experiences. And I've had quite a few in my time.
One thing I'll say is that I have been able to build up a healthy collection of stories. Some involving my wonderment as the naked woman ran in circles around her yard trying to arouse me. It was too funny.
Then there was the time I heard the soft wisper in my ear:
"Shhhhhh, don't say anything. My husband's home and his mother's with him. I have to take the kids to little athletics. Don't make a sound."
As I looked around, I realised in despair that a. there were no curtains to hide behind. b. I couldn't remember where my clothes were. c. the bed was a mattress on the floor and I couldn't hide under it. d. the husband and mother were just outside the door talking. e. she really did pack the kids into the car and drive away! f. I had to somehow get out of there, make my way back to Sydney on public transport (because I'd not taken the tour bus home the previous night) so that I could be home and picked up for another tour at 11.00 am! g. Sydney was an hour's drive away.
Ahhhh, well I did get out of there and I did make the tour.
Then there was the time that I was told, in a very serious meeting, that I could have all the fame I desired, just so long as I blew the record company chairman and allowed him to visit me from, er, behind.
Then there was a short period during my ill spent youth when I shared a house with 17 prostitutes.
That's an eye opener, let me tell you!
Well, perhaps not.
Then there was the time when I was working as a hand on a farm, aged about 12, when two men tried to rape me. Happily I got away because they were drunk. But I did walk nearly 80 miles to get back to the city and find another job and place to live.
I am not a cynic. Just a realist.
"In short, he so buried himself in his books from twilight till daybreak and the days from dawn till dark; and so from little sleep and much reading, his brain dried up and he lost his wits."