Mysterious People..

I am and have always been, a very open person.  I get told this a lot by strangers.  I guess it helps in writing, but it hurts in other places.  Recently I have been learning about the "real world" and how you sadly can't trust everyone you meet.  I hate this.  It is one of the most disappointing things I have come to face.  It's like parents and all those teachers and coaches all these years worked so hard to teach you right from wrong and make you a good person, but in the end you go to grown up world and those rules don't matter.  Everyone is egotistical, selfish and heartless.  It is rare to find a trustworthy person, and those wonderful gems usually turn out to be the ones that get screwed.  How sad.

Being as open as I am it is frustrating.  I can never, ever ever ever keep my own secrets..no matter how hard I try, and I easily find myself falling into conversation with someone and spilling my guts.  Oh wait I'm doing it now.  Awesome, someone is going to read my blog and take advantage of my weakness now.  Ugg..

Some people say my honesty is refreshing.  I guess I just see things in black and white.  I like simple.  Puzzles irritate me because they aren't straightforward.  Learning Spanish was hard because it changed and was relative.  Basketball and I didn't work out because of the ever changing plays that depended on circumstances.  Why can't everything just be pure and simple?  If I ask a question, answer me and tell me the truth, the whole truth...and nothing but the truth.  Who would even think to lie about it?

idealist.

I suppose it is my black and whiteness that leads me to be intrigued by mysterious people.  Today at the coffee shop I just had two mysterious customers leave.  They weren't creepy and I wasn't suspicious...they were two of my favorites, one being a close friend.  Today we sat all three together for the first time and I listened and watched as one tried to pull stories out of the other.  Both of these men fascinate me because when I ask them about themselves they are short; interesting but lacking in details.  It's that puzzle thing again.  Why are you making me work so hard for answers? Just tell me.

I guess I have my parents to thank for my pure-mindedness.

One of these guys is an older gentlemen.  I think he is a secret-something.  Perhaps an angel sent by my late grandfather.  Maybe grandpa sent him here to teach me culture, understanding people, and adventure.  Or maybe he is a secret agent, sent by the government to try and capture me in a lie so they can arrest me for some absurd reason.  More realistically, I like to think he is an undercover counselor.  He sits down for a quick 15 minutes at a time and asks me deep, introspective questions that get me thinking about myself, and then leaves.

One day I decided to trick him.  I wanted a turn too, ya know.  As soon as he walked I jumped on him verbally and asked him to tell me about his wife!  Ah-hah!  There was a conversation that was sure to stick on him for a while.  I wanted to analyze him for a change.  Unfortunately, I soon ended up on defense again.  And boy do I have a poor defense.  It's wide open!

I guess you can be that way if you have no secrets.

Is it bad to not have secrets?  Maybe I am missing a psychological piece of my mind.  Perhaps I need to be more sneaky and have passions I don't tell anyone about.  People like that are intriguing, but cowardice I think.  Maybe we all care too much what people think about us, so we don't risk sharing our hearts.

Maybe mysterious people have been through a lot in their lives and don't want to get hurt again.

But how do prevent that?

You can't.

Even with a superior family, secured living locations and protection from God Almighty, you still have to live life in a fallen world.  You still have to constantly interact with bad people, fallen people, and hurtful situations.  Pain and failure is inevitable.  We need to respect them and treat them as what they are rather than avoiding them at all coasts and pitying ourselves when we find them.

Kalhlil Gibran, on "Pain" from The Prophet:

"Your pain is the breaking of the shell than encloses your understanding.

Even as the stone of the fruit must break,

that its heart my stand in the sun, so must

you know pain.

And could you keep your heart in wonder 

at the daily miracles of your life, your pain

would not seem less wondrous than your joy;

And you would accept the seasons of your 

heart, even as you have always accepted 

the seasons that pass over your fields.

And you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief.

Much of your pain is self-chosen.

It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.

Therefore, trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquility:

For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by the tender hand of the Unseen,

And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips,

has been fashioned of the clay witch the Potter has moistened with his own sacred tears.