You interpret my heart, my nature, as you wish to believe it.

— Onegin

People see what they want to see.

As I touched on a while back, some of it comes from insecurity. Other times, from a fallacy of projection as some people ignorantly, and megalomaniacally, believe that everyone must think and act as they do. There are a few other cases that don’t fit into either of these categories though.

An example: I once offered a guest in my house some yogurt. The first thing he asked was, “Is it going bad?”. He didn’t believe I would have given it to him otherwise. It was a perfect reflection of his deadbeat friends who expected you to eat before coming to a party, and he had never known any other type of people. A more extreme example is if you offered to feed someone at your house and they got insulted because they thought you were implying that they couldn’t afford to feed themselves. Some people see things that aren’t there. It’s an amazing subconscious sign of their characters.

The way some girls interpret things is also an interesting phenomenon. Some of them think a guy who’s talking to them must be hitting on them so they drop the b-bomb in random points of conversation, just to warn you they have a boyfriend. Some girls think you’re gay because you don’t make any advances towards them. Some girls think you’re torn up, depressed because they declined your advances, and end up making a bigger deal about it than you do. I want nothing more than to tell these girls to get over themselves, but I bite my tongue because they end up embarrassing themselves more than I could ever do myself.

There are also times when a person is so pig-headed and stubborn that they see everything through a filter, interpreting your actions in some crazy way, and believe you’re at fault because they subconsciously refuse to see their own mistakes.

The old me would have been insulted when someone assumes I’m a certain way. Nothing would anger me more than someone presuming to know how I feel or what I’m like, and I used to care desperately what they thought, even if I knew I was just misunderstood. It’s an interesting feeling to be passed that now¹.

I’ve learned never to take responsibility for other peoples’ interpretations. Only take responsibility for your intent. You learn a lot about a person from the way they interpret things and from the way they see the world.

With the truth in your heart, it doesn’t matter what anyone thinks.

With the truth on your side, nothing can go wrong.

1. It’s actually been quiet a few months since I wrote this entry. I didn’t post it at first because I wanted to be absolutely sure that it wasn’t a fickle feeling, and that my strength was firm. Reading back on it now, it seems more relevant than ever. [↑]

How simple a thing is happiness: a glass of wine, a roast chestnut, a wretched little brazier, the sound of the sea. All that is required to feel that here and now is happiness is a simple heart.

—Zorba the Greek

I feel like writing.

Saturdays are usually reserved for relaxation, but I mixed it with a few errands throughout the day. Bought extra auburn foliage for one of my pots, and a funnel to get fresh-ground pepper into my new pepper shaker. Picked up my weekly groceries. Sat down at the pizza parlor to start Beautiful Losers while my Hawaiian was being baked.

I watched Zorba The Greek tonight, about the adventures of an aimless Englishman who goes to Crete, and the lessons he learns from a man he meets named Zorba.

Though generally jovial and lighthearted, it was heavy and heavy at times. There’s a scene where a beautiful widow (the love interest of the movie) is ritualistically stoned and killed out of jealousy by the men of the village, simply because she wouldn’t let any of them have her. The direction is a little inconsistent, but Anthony Quinn’s portrayal of the Grecian spirit keeps the movie in tact. Many believe the movie to be an analysis of Apollonian vs Dionysian thought, but I saw it as a nod to Taoism as well.

Zorba’s a Taoist, whether he knows it or not. He shuns intellectual thought and analysis, and loves life with bubbling spontaneity. In the end, the Englishman learns from Zorba, not about life, but how to live it.

And it inspired me. Not just the dialogue or the playfulness, but the locations too. It made me want to travel, to see new places, to meet more people, and explore other cultures.

One day. For now, I’ll enjoy the comfort of my house.

So here I am, staying up late with my back next to the open window, eating butter pecan tarts, drinking Dragon Well tea, and writing as much as I can.

I think I’ll go practice the form now.

Tomorrow, I have nothing to do but live.

In my book tonight, I was reminded of the time I was sitting on the floor of my room and you were lying on the bed when I felt the foundation shudder beneath me. I mapped the escape route in my head, thought of the coats cause it was the end of winter, and was about to grab your hand to lead us outside if the earth shook again, threatening to bury us in three stories of wood and concrete. I told you to be ready to run upstairs on my word. How I loved you then.

For in doing so, I reveal my vulnerability.

Not necessarily lonely, but single.

Maybe it’s because I got accustomed to living with someone. Coming home to another person in the house. Going to bed with a warm body next to me.

My cuddle buddy has decided that she’s off-limits¹. I haven’t made out with anyone, let alone had sex, in months.

Dry spells are funny things.

During my last one, I was too stoned to even think about dating. The one before that was more of a challenge.

Sometimes people tell me they want to “introduce” me to someone, but I’m always antsy about hurting mutual friends or acquaintances.

One person even gave me the card of a girl they thought was “perfect” for me, whom she met while getting a mortgage approved at the bank. “Perfect in what way?”, I asked. “Every way”, she said, “Gentle, polite, petite”. For months afterwards, she would ask if I called this person, and give me a disappointed look every time I said no, like a mother finding out that her son hasn’t borne her any grandchildren. I wish I could meet this girl, just to see what someone else believes I’m looking for.

My friends, who are in serious relationships or married now, talk about being single as if it was akin to their houses burning down. They’ve been in their relationships for so long that the idea has become foreign to them. “I’m too old to date”, they say, “Trying to find someone new, wondering if they like you, figuring out if you’re compatible..I couldn’t start over again”.

I always laugh, and think, “Then where does that leave me?”.

1. I hope it wasn’t because she thought I was leading her on [↑]

Through all this, I’ve come to realize that I cut people out of my life as a defense mechanism.

When someone hurts me, I distance myself from them so they mean nothing to me.

Often it’s an easy choice — just one wrong word or action — but not all the time. Cutting off my mom was by no means a rash decision; it took years of consideration and plenty of chances before she finally went too far.

What surprises me the most is that even though I now know that I have this defense mechanism, I don’t see a problem with it.

I’ve been hurt by enough people, and I don’t want to be hurt any more.