Everyone hurts.

In their own way, everyone hurts. Every time someone hurts, there is no worse hurt out in the world. We can always say 'Hey, look; the shit out there is much more smellier than yours,' and it could very well be true. Of course, there is no worse shit than the shit you are feeling my friend.

I say this because I do not think anyone could possibly say that their hurt is 'different', 'more painful', 'theirs is not as bad as mine'. Everyone is hurt. That is what matters. Some people say that comparing pain makes it easier. Others, like me, think that no matter what you do, it's all the same shit: I am in pain, nothing else matters.

So who the hell are you to say that 'Their pain not as pain as mine ok!' or 'They hurt only like that, not as bad as mine.'? Who are you indeed?

Everyone hurts. A person who has been lonely their entire lives and yearns for the solid foundation of that special someone hurts the same way as a person who has lost that foundation. The essential part is that both parties are feeling sad. Both of them have experienced something you will never understand, unless it has happened to you. I think we become blinded to how it felt when we were the same way as others, or if we never actually felt that built-up sense of emptiness.

I get irritated sometimes when I hear people say 'Don't bother me, I am in such emotional pain', especially when I try to give them a bit of perspective by giving them comparisons. 'It's not the same!' they would wail. Self-centered-ness is human. I understand that. And then I become normal again.

I love myself. And the people who made me, me.
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Picture this:
You are walking along on a sunny day in the park, any park. The birds are singing, the breeze is blowing a cool song in your ears, and all you can see in the sky is fluffy clouds chasing each other merrily. The world is a great place, and you are there to enjoy it.

Then, a shabbily dressed man walks from the other side of the road you are on. He has a battered old cap, torn jeans and a hole-y jacket. Think of a beggar, if you will. He looks unshaved, unwashed, and without a home. He is walking near you. You have 3 choices, answer truthfully to yourself:

a) Walk past him, wrinkling your nose or thinking 'ugh poor man'
b) Take a different path
c) Just walk.
d) Stop and try to do something else
e) shoot yourself.

What did you think? Did you wrinkle your nose inwardly in slight disgust? Did you look upon him with pity? Did you move out of the way or change your paths? You know your own answer. Some of you might have answered contrary to what you would have done.

What was all this about?

Everyone judges. Everyone makes decisions on what to think of others. No one can escape that damning human trait. It is how people survive, in a way. Judge how others think of you, and be prepared to face whatever might be coming.

But how many of us can say that after judging, we let those judgements go? How many of us can really change our minds about people? How many of us can take people at face value, at what they tell us? How many of us don't delve deeply into what it is in front of us? We judge, oh yes, we judge. We look at a poor man and wrinkle our nose in disgust or pity. We look at a poor man and think of helping him. How many of us look at a poor man and just see a man? How many of us just walk past him like any other human being? How many do nothing, think nothing, say nothing, because we just don't know the man?

There are no fingers pointed, there never should be. Judging is in our nature. Judging is in our blood. You judge. I judge. All of us do. The difference between you and me?

I let it slide.

I can look at a person and think of many many things. I can say he's gay, straight, annoying, looks okay, lousy sense of fashion, loud, soft, hot, cold, whatever. The other day, I went to a small discussion thing, and I saw this bunch of people there. There were two guys who had very gay voices: light and smooth. Feminine. I thought, hm, gay? One of them talked to me, and his voice just said 'Gay' in my mind.

But then, I let it slide. I did not change the way I acted, I did not change the way I spoke, I did not look away, I didn't act like anything would affect me. I did not feel any different.

And then he spoke to me some more, and that built an image of who he was in my mind.

And then much later on, they said they were gay.

And I still felt the same. They were just guys. Guys with different tastes, yes, but essentially just guys. Some of my friends would get disgusted by that. Some of my friends would try to avoid them. Some make fun of gays. Some have no comment, but are inwardly... you know.

Do you let it slide?