The problem with private diary entries is that nobody ever sees what you wrote.
The problem with public diary entries is that someone always sees what you wrote.
Sometimes I wonder what would happen if all of my private diary entries were accidentally made public.
There is nothing I want more.
There is nothing I want more to avoid.
Why do we humans spend so much time hurting each other and ourselves? And why are we so determined not to let people care about us, even as we desperately try manipulate them to ensure that they’ll continue to care?
We hold holidays for love full of products and advertisements amidst exploitation, unfaithfulness, killing, and destruction. How about for our love holiday, we all:
– Help those in need
– Tell the truth about ourselves and everything else
– Promise each other our loyalties
– Deliver on those loyalties, even if it means personal sacrifice
– Pursue peace
Chocolate’s okay, and so are roses and carbon crystals, but as measures of human caring, they’re monumentally stupid and hypocritical.
For today, I will try to forgive everyone who’s ever hurt me or lied to me. At least until tomorrow.
Every crime, from murder to rape to theft to espionage, is the result of an act of betrayal: a broken promise, a shattered expectation, a lie.
If you’re convinced that everyone is slimy, maybe you’re spending your time in the wrong places, with the wrong people. Maybe there is something about sliminess that you secretly like very much. Or maybe you just want to think of yourself as one of the slimy people, too.