I don't want to try to sound like I understand people, but I am starting to throw ideas around in my head to explain hatred toward people you don't know.
Since I was a wee little one, I always wondered what other people were thinking, wondering what thoughts were going through their heads at any certain point. I always wanted to know if they thought the same things that I did, exactly the same way that I did. How do thoughts cross other peoples minds????? This still bothers me, there is no way to fully dish out everything thats going through your head.
I'm pretty sure that part of the reason for hate is for not knowing.
I'm thinking that people should just worry about themselves first, and then take the time to get to know someone, exchange ideas, let others know that they aren't out to destroy them. There are so many things going on every second. Just let things go on as they are.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Lima
Most people that I care about already know where I am. I moved back in with my mother, who lives in Lima. After spending three amazing years in a city, not too big or to small, that I grew to love, I had to move away. It was mostly because of financial difficulties, not being able to find a job in Toledo. I know that I could have stayed there if I wanted to, living at the Black Cherry, or at a friend's house, but I chose not to. There are many reasons why I didn't stay. I didn't feel comfortable moving into the Black Cherry because I didn't want to. I have grown away from the project. I felt that if I moved there, I would feel like I was drowning with no way out, no light at the end of the tunnel. I still have high hopes for the project, but moving away from that scene, and also the activist scene might do me a bit of good. I didn't move in with my friend, who offered many times for me to stay with her, because I couldn't bring myself to accept that sort of generosity. I had no idea when I would be able to find a job, so I passed up on the offer.
Since I have moved to Lima I have found a full time job at a gas station within walking distance from my house. I really like the job, its easy and the owners are very friendly. I usually get hit on at least three times a night, and there hasn't been a single day that I have worked that I didn't have to sell someone a crackpipe. Its really sad to hand someone one of those. I have this friend, Jimmy, who can see the gas station from his front porch. He comes in and hangs out with me sometimes, asks about where I came from, about my family and such. Hes a middle aged distinguished looking black person, not shabby or anything. He had been every night asking for the lottery winnings, not really buying beer or anything that most people get. About the fourth night that he was coming in, he stayed and talked for about a half hour, then he said he was going to leave. Then he came up to the counter and asked for a love rose and some Chore Boy, both ingredients used for smoking the crackrock....... I wanted to get a spray bottle and say NO Jimmy!!! But he's functional and I can't stop him. It was a definite surprise.
I haven't lived with a parent figure in quite some time, and I haven't lived with my mom since I was 13. It's taking some time to get used to. I have been trying to keep myself motivated, to not fall into nothingness. I keep running into people that I went to middle school with, and every single person that I was "friends" with in middle school have turned into these scary zombie people that I might have been if I stayed here.
I don't understand why this town turns people into assholes. I work for people of Indian decent. Every day people come in and ask where the "A-rabs" are. I sigh and correct them. "They're not Arabic, they're Indian...." and every time the dumb ass people are like "Oh", and some of them are surprised that they were wrong, but mostof them give me this look like well does it matter, they're still different, still fromt that part of the world. Like they're terrorists because they come from Iraq, Afganistan, or India.... They are from fucking New Jersey. Come the fuck on.
I miss being able to go out and not constantly be disgusted by most people that surround me. Maybe what this town needs is a new way of thinking. How do you make someone use their brains, make them see things, make them see what matters, and what doesn't? This has always been a problem for me. How do you try to change someone else when you're not completely sure yourself? There are things I know for sure, people are good and bad, "bad" people can be "good", and vice versa.
I have spent my time well so far, in my life. There is no time for regret, and as long as I'm alive, I can just keep going through anything that takes place.
Since I have moved to Lima I have found a full time job at a gas station within walking distance from my house. I really like the job, its easy and the owners are very friendly. I usually get hit on at least three times a night, and there hasn't been a single day that I have worked that I didn't have to sell someone a crackpipe. Its really sad to hand someone one of those. I have this friend, Jimmy, who can see the gas station from his front porch. He comes in and hangs out with me sometimes, asks about where I came from, about my family and such. Hes a middle aged distinguished looking black person, not shabby or anything. He had been every night asking for the lottery winnings, not really buying beer or anything that most people get. About the fourth night that he was coming in, he stayed and talked for about a half hour, then he said he was going to leave. Then he came up to the counter and asked for a love rose and some Chore Boy, both ingredients used for smoking the crackrock....... I wanted to get a spray bottle and say NO Jimmy!!! But he's functional and I can't stop him. It was a definite surprise.
I haven't lived with a parent figure in quite some time, and I haven't lived with my mom since I was 13. It's taking some time to get used to. I have been trying to keep myself motivated, to not fall into nothingness. I keep running into people that I went to middle school with, and every single person that I was "friends" with in middle school have turned into these scary zombie people that I might have been if I stayed here.
I don't understand why this town turns people into assholes. I work for people of Indian decent. Every day people come in and ask where the "A-rabs" are. I sigh and correct them. "They're not Arabic, they're Indian...." and every time the dumb ass people are like "Oh", and some of them are surprised that they were wrong, but mostof them give me this look like well does it matter, they're still different, still fromt that part of the world. Like they're terrorists because they come from Iraq, Afganistan, or India.... They are from fucking New Jersey. Come the fuck on.
I miss being able to go out and not constantly be disgusted by most people that surround me. Maybe what this town needs is a new way of thinking. How do you make someone use their brains, make them see things, make them see what matters, and what doesn't? This has always been a problem for me. How do you try to change someone else when you're not completely sure yourself? There are things I know for sure, people are good and bad, "bad" people can be "good", and vice versa.
I have spent my time well so far, in my life. There is no time for regret, and as long as I'm alive, I can just keep going through anything that takes place.
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