I find myself tonight with a bit of time and a lot to think about. I'm not certain whether I'll be able to commit most of these thoughts to this blog as they're either too roughly sketched, or too deeply felt (and potentially too raw). I've been thinking a bit tonight about neglect. About how I've neglected this blog, how I've frequently in my life and at the present time, in fact, neglected my own most basic needs. I haven't eaten more than one real meal each day this week. I've neglected to clean my room, except for a few work shirts I've neglected to launder my clothes. I need a hair cut. In general I am failing at the basic essence of being alive, self control and preservation.
All that said, I feel confident that I can say I try mightly to avoid neglecting others. I take care of me when I get a chance (sometimes not at all), others I like to worry about. It seems like I'm far better at listening to another person's problems and helping think of positive thoughts for them, than I am about my own problems. A friend called recently because she was going through a rough relationship patch. We talked. It was a good chance to catch up. I talked because I like her a bunch, but also because I know in my worst moments that there is something powerful about being a "good person." There is something that's reassuring about knowing you're not selfish-- a reward for helping someone out. A belief that you're a giving person. Someone who would care for others. But in knowing that, maybe you are being selfish. I've been toying around wth this idea. I don't really know how to think about that. Is it wrong to do something beneficial for another person if you know that part of the reason you're doing the right thing is because you want to be known as the person who does the right thing. Does self awareness destroy the goodness of an act.
The idea of neglect (maybe the wrong term here) is also fresh in my mind because I feel like I have several friends who have basically just cut me off. I'm no longer in their immediate day to day lives and they've decided that it's better that way. Either they never really liked me as much as I imagined, or something about me, now, rubs them the wrong way. Or something else all togheter, but still there was, that I know of, no falling out, just simply their decision that my role in their lives needed to end or be severely limited. I guess neglect isn't the right word, but I can think of few things more painful than being told (without the courtesy of words, no less) that you're no longer worth the effort (minimal as it may be). I've never found myself (even on a campaign) that busy, so I presume it's not simply a function of schedule rather a choice. A prioritizing. And I guess there's no use lamenting it, because why would you want to be friends with someone who doesn't want to be your friend. And yet, at the end of the day it's certainly no less hurtful than it was in kindergarten when you would brazenly ask one another, "Do you want to be my friend." There was a social contract even at that age, you could never answer no. I guess for the first time in a while, I've been told "no." "No, I don't want to be your friend." Maybe I'm overreacting. Quite possible. That's the thing about the lack of communication. It's easy to misinterpret it. Maybe it's more complex than that, more nuance, more intricacies. But unless I'm missing something, neglecting some delicate aspect of interpersonal discourse, I'm being told "No, no you can't be my friend." or at least "I'd rather you not be my friend anymore." and you know, just as I'd imagined as a child, it's none too pleasant.