Printed from WriteWords -


by  literati

Posted: Wednesday, February 25, 2004
Word Count: 343

I am lucky. I have met some wonderful people in my life, particularly in the first fifty years. Happy people, kind people, intelligent people, energetic people. In fact, I am the product of all those people. The bits I have taken from them that I wanted to, and melded to my core personality. My persona is an abreaction of all those souls. Sometimes I wonder, what is the original me. Is it still in there. Where are the boundaries? Perhaps some of their characteristics, have blended with mine, and changed all mine, or some of mine. Therefore, there is nothing left of me. The original me, my genetic blueprint, is smudged and unclear. My psychological blueprint that is. I cannot tell anymore, which factors are inherited from my parents, which factors are truly mine, and which are inherited from societal exchanges. Is this what is meant by a collective unconscious? I wonder which bits my sons dislike about me? Is it me, my parents, or my lifelong exchanges. I'm not sure, but then are they? It is interesting though, that some people bring out wonderful qualities from within you, and some people bring out less than desirable qualities from you. It is best to stick to relationships that elicit stirling qualites, which after all make you feel good about yourself. Where are those relationships? I think I have only ever had one like that. A friend that is, who made me feel kind, good, and decent. I enjoyed the pleasure it gave me, and felt joyful. That was a long time ago. Perhaps those kind of people are a rare thing on this planet. Come to think of it, I do not like people who do not bring desirable qualities from me. Because it makes me feel shite about myself, and it is important to like yourself. Because if you do not, then nobody else will. Sometimes, I think I am wonderfully superior. Okay, yes, I admit it. And sometimes, not very often, I think I am shite. A failure, a big failure.