Imagine yourself, in your favorite place. It may be a mall, or a park, or the beach. Just standing, and around you are other people, just standing. Freaked out yet? Hang on, I'm going somewhere with this.
So, your standing there and you realize there is so much to say. On the inside you scream as loud as you can, hoping just one of these people might come up to you and say something to un-lock your thoughts and help you free them. But no one does and everyone continues standing, and you continue silence.
Something wrong with this picture? Of course, you didn't stop to think about what all the other people, just standing are thinking? Could it be possible that they may be thinking the same thing as you? Just wanting someone to free their thoughts. I'm sure it didn't.
There's no sure fire way to tell, because I can't get into their head, can you? I didn't think so. Well, here I am, I can pour my whole heart and soul out, everything in my head. I can rant about prejudices, or I can praise mascara anything, and not be afraid. But when I'm around people, everything seems to shut back up.
Friends and everyone, it doesn't seem to matter. There is a wall there. I don't know exactly when it built up, but I wish it would crumble fast. The beginnings to the best years of my life are being ruined because of a difficulty of confiding in people after a show-down last year with two (not one, but two, at the same time) ex-friends. Progress! I have just figured out when it started.
I've been hurt by alleged friends before. It seems impossible to talk about, but does talking really help? I don't think so.
This is off whatever track I started on.
I suppose, the thought I have for you is this. Why do we shut ourselves off to the world? It seems that after any bad experiences, you seem to draw back into a protective hole, hopefully surrounded by family, and if not by at least thoughts. It doesn't matter who you talk about. Any age, male or female.
What do they all do when they get too near to a hot stove. They all draw their hand back quickly. When is it that the burning sensation stops? When is it that you have the courage to try and touch anything spiraling silver again? Do you ever?
I should know. At 5, I went to the emergency room with 3rd degree burns for pressing my hand to a hot stove after my mother specifically said not to. Even to this day, I find it difficult to to be near the spirals of death and I check to make sure the heat is off before slowly reaching towards it.
I suppose you never heal from hurt. But you learn from it. You learn not to open up too much, too fast. How fast is too fast? I don't know.
It seems like, when the time comes to open up again, you'll just know.
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