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On the Discontinuation of Friendship
I have decided that I am done with Wesley.  The negatives of his friendship have outweighed the positives.  While tagging along with him has earned me several useful contacts and taken me on some interesting adventures, he bores me now.  He is constantly wheedling me, trying to get to buy him something, take him somewhere or some such thing.  He is very good at getting what he wants, and becomes petulant if he does not receive it.  I accepted this as the price of interacting with him, as the majority of our time together was enjoyable.

He was the first person in a long time to attempt to get close to me.  I let him in, interested.  He seems alternately horrified and almost... condescending?... at what he finds.  He has been an interesting sounding board for my own thoughts, as one tends to never win an argument with oneself.  There's a blankness in him that I recognize, but it is dependent on other people.  He feels he is above us, and gets his gratification from controlling people.  I have no use for someone who feels they are above me.  His monster is delusional.  Everyone is the same, to think you're better than the rest of us howling monkeys is a rather nice comfort for some, I suppose.

Maybe I'll at least get some amusement out of his reaction when I cut ties.


There is one thing to be thankful to him for.  He asked me questions that I had long ago stopped asking myself.  I feel I have the answers now.  I am not interested in hiding.  I am not interested in being pleasant.  However, I am fearful.  Revealing too much of oneself gives other's power over you.

I will no longer shove away thoughts that interest or excite me.  Probably, I will remain outwardly unchanged, but I will let my inner egomaniac run wild.  I am not different.  I am not special or unique.  But life is short and meaningless.  If it gives me a sense of satisfaction to feel unique, I have no problem allowing myself this delusion.  Neither will I deny myself the despair in those moments when I can feel the horrible/awesome/terrifying/hilarious futility of doing anything.

Learning to feel honestly will be hard.  At this point, it is very difficult to tell whether I am feeling something, or just convincing myself that I am feeling it.



Everything people do has a motive.  Everything is a powerplay.  I am merely deciding to no longer be slave to the motives of others.


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