the wanderer

doo-hickey nonsense
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2002-02-20 09:42:37 (UTC)

Everyone falls victim to hypocrisy.

One of my many pet peeves, I'm being a hypocrite by just
being a hypocrite at times myself. In more ways than I'd
like to admit, I contradict myself as well as in doing the
same things that other people do to irritate me, right back
at them. These cases have slowly disintegrated over the past
few years, having put myself in other people's shoes in just
about every situation.

Not a day goes by that I regret, yet in the same breath am
thankful for what has transpired in the past in the
relationship with my brother (2 years my junior). Not acting
as a cop out or excuse at all, the reason for my longtime
bully mentality, was of course, like all bullies before me,
I was thrown into the bully cycle, and before I realized
what was going on, I kept the cycle going, by bullying,
intimidating, striking pure fear into my younger sibling. A
small number of kids have felt my wrath throughout
elementary and middle school, but not even close to what I'd
forked out upon him. I remember, still to this day, stories
of other siblings and how my relationship with my brother
seemed almost storybook when compared to these. Instead of
saying to myself, "It can't end up like that", or "I don't
want to be in the same company as them", I merely used it as
a pat on the back, reassuring that I wasn't in the wrong,
EVER. Early on in my teens, to quote a token phrase of my
mother's, I started to "treat people how you'd (I) want to
be treated". So, I started treating everyone as equals,
letting my true kindness show, and all of a sudden, I had a
much less guilty conscience. This worn-out phrase of my
mom's had become my way of life so to speak, until one day,
I believe I was about 14, I chose to step into the shoes of
the one person I'd yet to...my brother. It was probably no
less than one day since our last encounter when this
epiphany of sorts had taken place, thus adding to the
already clear picture. I swear I balled my eyes out for
three straight hours! I felt like my guts were going to
implode, I was so disgusted with myself. This, now that I
look back on it, probably had a lot to do with my huge
depression trip, among hundreds of other things though. I
mean, imagine coming to a realization that you were becoming
if not already there, a combination of all of the people in
your past and present who've ever triggered fear, hate, and
sorrow in you, and then worst of all, having your younger brother
in the same role that you despised, as a verbal and
physical punching bag. I think that was one of the first
times that suicide became a notion that was seriously
contemplated. It'd come across my mind many times
before that even, but for random reasons. The only thing
that probably prevented me at the time was because I still
considered myself a "God-fearing Catholic". Had I not been
raised up until that point as one, I honestly feel I
wouldv'e never actually attempted to take my own life (too
many times to count).

I thank my lucky stars every once in a while that there
was never a gun in the household or easy access to one
during those years. I probably would've pulled that trigger
before I'd completed puberty, and believe me that was early.
Speaking of one of Lucifer's inventions, one of the, no
scratch that, the best friend I've ever had in my life, in
which I've grown quite distant from, though he's not
physically distant, has turned into a weapons crazy white-
supremesist, although he won't admit it to himself quite
yet. I mean, it's one thing to even own a gun that
was used by the SS, but to actually fire it, way more than
on one occasion even, that's pretty far out there. What if
he feels just a tad bit too depressed on one of his
drunken late night endeavors (many in fact), what's gonna
stop him from reaching across the room? Oh man, I'm gettin'
way too emotional just writin' this whole thing. Again, how
can you appreciate this world?

Far off track from the whole hypocrisy thing I know, but a
trail that at least doesn't have many holes.


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