02 April 2005

This Easter I went to a birthday party (where, at the end, I opted to go home myself after everyone including the host had already gone to sleep. It was about 5.30 in the morning then, and I had just spent the last quiet hours discussing the intricacies of Stephen Hawking's theories, black holes, Schwarzschild Radiuses, event horizons and the galaxies final destruction through collapsing in on itself or suffering the warmthdeath, so it had been a good night indeed). On this party was clown Flats, who harboured a magnum gun which could almost not be told from the real thing. In the Netherlands, holding these realistic fake guns is punishable by imprisonment for as much as half a year. Amusingly enough, actually killing someone here would get you less punishment, but that is another topic. Regardless, it was a fate that clown Flats did not deserve and to this date she has managed to continuously stay one step ahead of the law.

I had a conversation with clown Flats that night which was very good to me. Sometimes, no matter how much you look at things in your head, you can't get a good view on your problems. When that happens, just talking to someone about it can help a lot. Sometimes, it's even more beneficial to tell them to a complete stranger, who is ultimately objective about it. Not that clown Flats was a stranger.

We talked about some of the annoying obsessions I can have with people from time to time. As she asked me questions, I came to realize things I couldn't have thought of on my own. I discovered that the persons I couldn't get out of my head weren't there because they had strong convictions which were totally anathema to my own beliefs, but because I was afraid. Afraid of their influence on my friends. Not that this was the only reason for their overdue stay in my cerebrum, but a big part of it anyway. I was afraid that my friends, whom I hold very dear, would be tainted by the -in my eyes- wrong and harmful ideas of those people. Clown Flats pointed that I may have too little trust in the judgement of my friends. Surely, if they were the benign persons I hold them to be, they'd be able to see for themselves what was bogus and what was true? Though it may not be so much that I don't trust my friends, as that I am simply too afraid of the corruption.

In the end I know that I'll have peace of mind in time. And I realized that my friends would be smart enough to recognize the chicanery and parselmouthed words themselves. Though I'll fall back from time to time, I'll grow into this understanding. And one day, I may even be strong enough not to care when people slander me out of envy or misunderstanding. I know what harm it can do if people talk ill of you and I can only hope those folks will learn that their patronizing and conniving ways do not lead to wisdom. It will always be difficult for me to accept such foolishness and malice in this world, but perhaps I'll grow above it some day. And with people like clown Flats helping me, I stand a mighty chance.