I sometimes wonder why we people have such a hard time “showing their through colors”. I can of course dig around in myself to find out, and tell you what my “true” is, but I am not crazy.
Today’s poem is from Day 1336.
They turned off
I can’t see
I can’t imagine a person, who would tell everything they consciously know, and think at that moment, to an other person. There is of course no way you can tell, we can’t read minds so we assume that no one shows it all. Even if someone tells you all their darkest secrets, you still don’t know that for sure. We have to assume that we all have something hidden for the other.
Maybe this is the origin of the myth of the “soul-mate”. I would tell myself everything gladly, if I could meet myself, a soul-copy so to speak. There is no other like us, but what if you find a partner that comes close, one you can forge a bond with, a bond that is strong enough for you to let go of all that is cooped up in you. I don’t think relations , every kind of relation, would last long if you let it all go uncensored, even if love is in play…specially when love is in play. I am afraid that we all go to the grave with unspoken words.
It could also just be me, having this particular need. Maybe I have to become Catholic, and take the the judgment that I have sinned for granted.