The Duty of an Island

I am a liar.

A broken, afraid, and scared liar.

I lie to friends and family, even people I don't know, and for what?

Distance.

I build walls and burn bridges. Each lie strikes like a match to incinerate the wick of connection to others. I don't think I like being close to people, because I never have been before. From an early age I was conditioned, by no fault of family, to be alone; to be by myself and alone in my thoughts. I can't even fathom a connection where you share everything. Though I had a sibling, there was an age gap and I didn't even have that connection there.

Yet at a very young age, I'm remembering as far back as three and four years old, I understood emotions and tension. I don't think that is a "special" skill by any means, I think children are more in tune with these things than adults. But I learned as a child how to "read a room" and defuse a situation.

From then on, I've given every ounce of energy to attempting to murder sadness and unhappiness in the people around me. So much so, that I don't even remember what its like to make a decision for something that I want.

The closest I get is when someone becomes so much of an emotional effort, or I realise I can't help them, I cut and run...and I feel like an asshole for years after...

There are tools one develops to avoid connection. Sense of humour is the most versatile. The trick to being unnoticeably disconnected is to be funny. Laughter misdirects. Lies are another good device found in the toolbox of the broken.

I remember speaking to my paternal grandmother about my paternal grandfather.

"I never knew adults could lie, it was a surprise."

That shocked me. All the fears one has of being the things you hate about your preceding direct generations all up in your thought bubble shining light on the worst parts of yourself.

The truth is I'm almost thirty years old, and I'm still that three year old boy.

I feel more around me than I do within myself. I have a pattern of being whatever someone else needs me to be. Lying to hide myself so that I can be what it is they need. Because in my arrogance, I believe I'm stronger than a normal person and can handle it. After repeated offences, and some growing into it, its true.

I can handle it.

I don't feel or have my own emotions, just the idea and knowledge of what emotion I should have. I can't turn it off, I lie to myself and others to pretend I do have said emotion.

I thought I had feelings and emotions, but manipulating circumstances for attention is not the same, and I'm quite disgusted with myself on those attempts. Another grand hand me down in the long genetic trail of tragic preceding generations.

I think I'm a shell now.

I require the drama or else I don't have any connection to feelings.
So why concerned with connection to feelings and not another person?

I wish I could answer that.
Probably because its the closest I can get.

I feel defeated. Existence has won.

But the worst part is I have to stay around until the end for various reasons. I can't undo the happiness I've done for a select few (most would never notice the absence). Not to mention the scientific and/or spiritual, which ever you subscribe to, obligation of continuing the generational trail so future generations can have a chance of fixing a lineage of comedic tragedy.

An idiot left serving the penance of life.

Sometimes lies are transparent to those you tell them too.

They are smart enough to see through them, and patronize you with subtle mockings, though their intelligence in this regard is one of the reasons you liked them in the first place.

It's too late at that point.

You've said the exact opposite of what you've wanted to say too many times. Cowardice and anger are all that you've got left cause if you didn't lie, they'd know the truth of what you wanted. And they've got their own stuff to deal with, they are just passing by.

The walls are still up and the smouldering of what used to resemble bridges fill the horizon. Or better..

I think some men are islands. Stationary beings for the lost and needing to wash up on shore until the island's resources have nourished and sent the lost or needing soul back on its way.

I remember at school (a private Christian school mind you) being "taught" about how we all made up the body of Christ. I made a joke about how if that were true, than someone had to be the butthole.

This was not well received by my teacher, but I still believe each human has their part they play. Not everyone gets the life they want and to believe so is foolishness.

Weither humanity is evolving or we are the body of Christ doesn't matter, there is always the need for the islands and buttholes.

They have their purpose and functions.

I suppose if I have to lie to do my doodie, than so be it.