Rethinking Trust

I'm a rather foolish person, after all.

I don't know if there really was a moment I disputed this theory. I think there might have been. I think for a little while I felt somewhat safer.

Today I finished a quarter of a bottle of Ciroc because I left the cap at my friend's house. Although, whether we're friends is actually something to be determined. Probably not- we'll probably never be anything more than acquaintences again.

Part of it is definitely my fault. I don't do enough to measure my words. Not nearly enough as I thought I did. I was careless, and things got out of hand. My acquaintences are quite concerned with the level of privlege they hold in comparison to the people around them. It's a reasonable thing to concern oneself with. I can see that. It's a lot like conservativism, though, in that it's just a completely foreign consideration that's kind of hard for me to find terms to communicate within. Everyone tends to get defensive when they feel they're not being heard. People tend to get defensive if they think they're being judged.

"Everyone has a sob story." I think is what was said as I was leaving. I climbed into the driver's side from the passenger side, it was kind of reminiscent of having to climb out of the passenger side after my accident. I think I was slightly less shaken. I think I saw this one coming. My friends have very deeply held beliefs. The scars of their interactions with the world leave their nerves raw and it was only a matter of time before I nicked one. I'll have to be the one to apologize. I am less invested in the argument. That is definitely a privlege. I don't know if being sensitive is.

I think if you are asked if it's ok to speak on the phone, it's more emotionally satisfying for the other person if you call them. My arm has been bothrering me all day because the cuts have left the nerves raw. Just brushing against my leggings is irritating. I keep trying to replay the evening for the exact moment things really fucked up. I think I should have just taken it. I think if I didn't try to relate, things might not have gone so badly. I should have just accepted their feelings without trying to make us seem more similar. Sometimes it's more important to feel heard. I know that. Not everyone can feel heard at the same time. I know that. I shouted curses at myself on the drive home. I got out of the car, dumped out the cava and threw the bottle against the ground. It shattered in a peculiar way, the neck just neatly coming off the base. I took the neck with me and that's where two of the cuts came from. And I was called out on the likelihood of feeding into my dirty habit. I think it adds to the discomfort- the embarrassment. I'll have to apologize soon. I'll give it a couple of days. I'm a little hurt they didn't check in. They have eachother. I guess I have a few other people lately, too.

I watched the whole of Fleabag today and I picked up a bit around the apartment. It's a lot cleaner but still kind of a wreck. I hadn't realized how much I had let slide. Fleabag was fantastic, though. It was that perfect, dry, dark British humor.

"Stop checking, alright, nobody loves you."- Fleabag. It worked so well because I was checking my phone all day, too.

Afterwards I watched Interstellar. Now I'm watching Amy. This last one might have been a bit of a mistake because I always feel a bit worse about myself when considering the genius of others. I wonder, kind of often, how other people don't seem to feel like such fuck ups all the time as well. I bet they do though. Maybe half of them at least. I like the idea that some of them don't. I want there to be people who are truly happy and at peace in the world. That makes it seem like a much more reachable goal.

I think I'll get together a costume for her for next Halloween. I like the idea of doing the eyeliner.

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