| You don't give a shit about anyone, and nobody gives a shit about you.
Worth it? Maybe.
But for something completely relevant..
Chris says:
You were pretty reserved with your emotions. It's hard to know what you're actually thinking, because you're hard to read. Unless something big happens and you have a large emotional response, you keep your feelings inside. When we were together you were a lot more caring than you should've been, but sometimes it was hard to know what you were thinking or feeling. It's like you don't want people to know that you're upset, angry, lonely etc etc. You put up a facade that everything is ok, but then sometimes when you actually wanted to talk to someone-- well, I didn't know how to react because it was hard to figure what you were thinking/feeling. I think it's because you are a strong person, and don't want to be thought of as weak. I guess the way I treated you didn't help either.
Chris says:
You know Lib, I wish I could talk to you more often. You're the only person who seems honest with me-- you don't pull punches. I know my life is pretty fucked up, and so do my friends. But you're the only one who's ever said I should change, or that I could do better.
Ok, so I'm slightly dubious on the last two or so sentences. I'm sure some of his closer friends have said he should change. Albeit probably not as harshly, or bluntly, as I have. I figure I've reached that comfort zone now where I don't need to be tactful or subtle, as I would with my other friends. Also, I figure if we had a falling out over something I said, but it still preempted change.. then I would be happy.
But the conversation we had last night made me realise he must've actually pulled his head out of his ass and did some serious reflecting on our relationship. Then again, Chris has forever been the master of being able to say what people want to hear.
Saying sorry is a weakness
"So what do you do when you're wrong?"
Either say nothing, or convince the other person they're to blame.
Fair enough.
I haven't finished reading Zorba the Greek yet. Even though it's a book that I'm really enjoying, I find it hard to get into it. Probably because I don't particularly dig the style of writing. I just like some of the things that are said and thinking about them.
So I borrowed out a pretty interior design book to oogle over during the time when I don't have much to do. Which is quite a lot of the time. Even though I know I have things pretty swell right now (I don't think I'll ever be this stress free again.. I don't have to worry about a career, uni assignments or rent at the moment), a part of me has always just wanted to grow up, get my own place and have a stellar career so I can do all the things I want to do.
I'm not sure whether I'd prefer to build my own place, or just find something with the right architectural skeleton and then rennovate my way into glory.
I've been thinking for some time now that I ought to re-read the Dark Tower again. I kind of munched my way through it the first time (quite ironic when considering what King wrote in the end), but for some reason I just can't get into doing it. It's a great story, and I love the style, the characters, the plot.. but I think what really made it for me was the epilogue. Seven great books, but.. a few absolutely profound (for me) pages at the end.
And I'm just aimlessly rambling, as a means of procrastination. Secretly hoping for something to happen, though I doubt it will. But ah, that hope.
See, Lib? You failed. You ought to have stuck to the original plan, because you are far too dependant.
Always about a guy, eh.
If I expended the same amount of thought into relationships and emotions into more practical areas- I'd have everything solved.
And I wish I had more energy. |
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syriaca's journal
