I will never understand how calling someone "sensitive" is an insult.
Like, I get that sometimes people who are prone to being overly sensitive can make poor choices or lack the ability to rationalize certain situations. This type of behavior I could see as counterproductive. So I shall give you that. Being excessive in any trait has its own set of issues like being overly logical can be perceived as cold, critical and distant. Both have their own struggles.
But showing compassion to someone, being an empathetic person.., having an abundance of emotional intelligence? WHY is that an insult? Why is this something to chastise someone about? WHY do people always use being "sensitive" as a weapon toward people who are apathetic or concerned about social issues and the welfare of others???
Isn't that half the issue??? We are all trying to push through terrible childhoods, unfortunate circumstances, looming anxiety and depression because we feel like the world and the people in it are impervious to perceiving our hurt and non apathetic to the fact that we are all hurting? Isn't this the cause for like 99.9% of social issues?? Think about it. Very strange??
From the words of Mick Jenkins, "*Spread love*."
Spread compassion.
understanding,
and empathize.
Peace and love.
peace
Friday, January 13, 2017
Tuesday, January 10, 2017
split ends.
I felt so heavy.
heavily carrying my burdens and demons.
dropping them off into a vast sea of leeches,
feeding off the darkest parts.
so much depth but still so shallow.
The feeling of the abandonment of the one warm place that turned numb.
sharpening the blade for ones own luxury,
digging my own grave of spitefulness.
as the things that made a person human,
also made a person haughty and inhumane.
snipping at the ends for our satisfaction.
unaware that I laid in disdain.
malicious ways weren't far from the thoughtful roots they were embedded into,
I just thought that if I could continuously snip,
I could start over again..
heavily carrying my burdens and demons.
dropping them off into a vast sea of leeches,
feeding off the darkest parts.
so much depth but still so shallow.
The feeling of the abandonment of the one warm place that turned numb.
sharpening the blade for ones own luxury,
digging my own grave of spitefulness.
as the things that made a person human,
also made a person haughty and inhumane.
snipping at the ends for our satisfaction.
unaware that I laid in disdain.
malicious ways weren't far from the thoughtful roots they were embedded into,
I just thought that if I could continuously snip,
I could start over again..
strange existence? (thoughts)
sometimes when I look up at the moon, it appears to be super close. It almost looks too perfect... I feel like I am on the Truman Show. everything feels like a dream, or a memory or.., like it's not really real. when the moon is too beautiful in the sky, it's like a trigger for me to question reality.
I start questioning if this reality exist or not..., and then start to allow my mind to wander into parallel universe theories...
I come to the conclusion that everything around me is ephemeral and nothing REALLY exist outside of the projections of my mind. it scares me a little because it means.., maybe everything I do is for nothing, but somehow that realizations frees me a little as well.
I then take a deep breath, I slowly cast those thoughts aside., and assimilate to the physical plane placing these thoughts into the back of mind until they are triggered again.
Existence is strange.
I start questioning if this reality exist or not..., and then start to allow my mind to wander into parallel universe theories...
I come to the conclusion that everything around me is ephemeral and nothing REALLY exist outside of the projections of my mind. it scares me a little because it means.., maybe everything I do is for nothing, but somehow that realizations frees me a little as well.
I then take a deep breath, I slowly cast those thoughts aside., and assimilate to the physical plane placing these thoughts into the back of mind until they are triggered again.
Existence is strange.
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