metanoia's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Grave Secrets People think of me as an honest person. They believe that I do not lie or deceive. They believe I am straight and pure. And, I am, for the most part; just not AS honest as they all think. Then again, maybe they think I am a big fat liar and I only delude myself by thinking they think I am honest. But, really, they do say they appreciate my honesty, so they must think it to a certain extent. I, on the other hand, do not think myself so honest because I know my own secret secrets. My �grave secrets�, I call them because I am taking them to my grave. So, I will not write of them here, or anywhere, and will not speak of them anywhere, and rarely think of them. I know everyone has these secrets � things they will never tell another living soul. I am sure of this. I don�t think everything always has to be told, or said. There are things better left alone, as long as you really can leave them alone and not toy with the idea of others knowing them, or titillate yourself with the thought of �If they only knew what I knew�. Those thoughts are destructive and can lead to a grave secret becoming not a secret anymore� But that it another thought for another day. So, I really am honest. I am quite honest with myself, and I don�t hurt people under the guise of �being honest�. Because, honesty is mostly a personal issue and not the �divine truth� we think we are blessed to know. When I was young I would say the cruelest, meanest things because �I�m just being honest�, as if that were the �get out of jail free� card and I could not be faulted for saying it if �I was just being honest.� What a joke. What a scam, a ruse. I was a total jerk for many, many years. But I was �honest�. Ha! I once wrote in someone�s yearbook (I remember it to this day because she never spoke to me again for the rest of the time we went to school together � 3 yrs!), �Sarah, maybe more people would sign your yearbook if you were nicer.� � Metanoia. Oh, my God. No wonder she didn�t speak to me again � ever! I was such a jerk. I have come to the conclusion that I am not losing my mind, it�s just functioning in a way I don�t understand� hehehe I once worked for a man who I found so interesting. It was one of my very first jobs and I was soo na�ve and at the same time I felt so sophisticated and mature�. Anyway, he would talk to me for hours about his life and his ideas and opinions and things he had done. I loved to hear his war stories. He would say, �Metanoia, let�s go get a Coke� and we would take off and go across the street to a little deli and drink cokes and we would talk about shit for hours. Everyone in the office thought he was screwing me. They thought we would go and have sex, for fuck sake! And I think he liked them thinking that and I was too stupid to realize it until many years later, when it all kind of fit perfectly and the benefit of retrospect helped the picture focus clearly. I think it made him feel virile or something, meanwhile it made everybody look at me like I was a little slut and I was so na�ve that I was blissfully unaware of that whole scenario happening around and about me!! Anyway, all we would do is talk. This is not one of my grave secrets, we really did JUST TALK. He would tell me stories about WWII, he called it double-u double-u eye eye � he was so funny. He was a paratrooper and one of my favorite stories was about the time he made a jump and he was wearing his father�s wristwatch. As he was falling, the force of the wind blew his father�s watch off! It broke his heart. After that, he never wore a watch again. Ever. He developed the following philosophy about time - he would say, �How can it be time for me to be somewhere, if I�m not there, yet?� hrm�yeah. I love that story. 8:34 a.m. - 2004-08-18 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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