fakey

when i was in jr. high, the worst thing you could call someone was a fake. and if you were talking about someone who seemed to you, fake, you'd say "they are so fakey."

ah. the irony. because it seems to me that being a grown up is all about being fake. and the fakier you are- the better. smiling when you feel sad. holding in anger. never speaking up about what upsets you. being friendly to people you not only don't like, but actually hate. pretending you are not ever jealous or spiteful or selfish. it almost seems these days, like the worst thing you could possibly be now is genuine.

ah, but there are truly those people in the world who are genuinely nice and good. how they got that way i don't know. they are all sunshine, rainbows, unicorns. or they are all about steven covey or some such.

i guess i wish i could be one of those folk. but i truly don't know how.

the very best i can do is be fake. smile on the outside. churn on the inside.

it might be why i lie awake at night. trying to resolve it all.

that is not to say that i am never happy. actually, despite all and everything, i do again feel quite happy sometimes. really. and i even almost get irritated with people who can't find anything to be happy about. that's how far i've come. amazing huh?

but the truth is, there are lots of times when i either don't really feel the way i act. or even worse? - i don't really feel anything at all. i just know that it's socially appropriate to feel a certain way, so i just act the way i'm supposed to. i don't really know what else to do. i mean, i can't just tell people how i really feel. or that i don't really feel sometimes. what would become of me? i'd be friendless.

so, i was very very tired today. because i was up so very late last night, traveling. and i came home from a few hours of work and had lunch and sat down on the sofa and flipped on the tv. tv is so very vegetative. at one point the Long Island medium came on.

and i have to say "she is rather eerie." my brain tells me she's fake. but then again, seriously, sometimes, she's rather eerie in what she seems to know.

it kind of freaks me out, and i particularly find it disturbing that according to her, our dead loved ones know not only what we've been up to, but also seem to be able to read our minds. and i suppose that's all good and fine, if you are a sunshine, rainbow, unicorn person. but what if you're not? what if you are a complete fake, a good lot of the time? i don't really know how i'm supposed to feel differently than i feel. feelings just are. they aren't molded.

and i mean, what are you going to do when you die then? seriously, i think if my dead loved ones could read my thoughts, there is no way they are going to be meeting and greeting me at the pearly gates. because i'm sure i've disappointed every last one of them, by now. now that they truly know me. i'm really quite sure that not even jesus could love me after reading my thoughts. so how are they going to?

so i was asleep earlier tonight. and now i'm wide awake. i'm awake because i had a nightmare. in my nightmare, my x sister in law- one of my living ones, was choking me. and the crazy part was, that in the dream, i wasn't so upset that she was choking me as that i was upset that she was choking me for a really dumb reason. not because she was legitimately angry with me, but because she was angry about something else that didn't have anything to do with me, some work thing, and she was taking it out on me.

and then (in my dream) i thought "well, oh well. if she could read my thoughts, like my dead sister in law, she'd have reason to choke me."

then i woke up, and now here i am. wondering about being all fakey in front of the dead. wondering if they want to choke me.