Thursday, July 15, 2010


I, like many people, have a zone. A metaphorical boundary line encompassing my thoughts, my feelings, etc.
Very few have ever been given the opportunity to enter my zone.

Very few people will ever enter my zone.

My mind, at times, becomes overwhelmed with its contents, and naturally, feels the need to dump them. At said point in time, I may confide in an individual (or multiple individuals). But until said point in time, it is unwise to make any attempt at infiltrating it.

The zone, which is an Existentialist concept, is a healthy defense mechanism that keeps emotions under wraps and allows man to solve the many dilemmas and mysteries of life, to a degree, on his own. Some people call it "pondering your thoughts" or "planning." It's somewhat of a decision-making process.

I happen to be an avid thought ponderer. I like to consider every possible scenario before moving to action, and I like to do so alone. Obviously, prayer goes into each consideration as God Himself is the only person, besides myself, who is freely allowed access to my zone. So far, I haven't lost my sanity. At least entirely. And honestly, I feel it's my choice as to how I deal with my problems. But apparently, I missed a memo.

Apparently, I should openly discuss my issues and inner struggles on a regular basis with people near and dear to me because they all require a constant stream of information regarding my problems. Not that I question their motives, they're just "trying to help" or some crap. But I don't neccessarily feel it's always their place to know things. I don't always feel comfortable talking to certain people about certain things.

I personally feel it's easier to talk to my guy friends sometimes over my girl friends, and in some cases, I feel it's easier to talk to a family member. And sometimes, I just don't want to talk about it. The only people who need to know are me and God. Period.

Besides the last time I checked, 1 Peter 5:7 says I should cast all my cares upon God.

If you're truly concerned about me, you'll be there when I need you. Ganging up on me, backing me into a corner, and demanding I pour my soul out to you definitely isn't a way to go about helping me, but evidently, I'm in the wrong for not responding positively to it.

"But we're worried about you." Why? You have nothing to worry about.

Here, let me put your worry to rest...
  • I'm not on any type of narcotic neither legal or illegal.
  • I've never participated in a crime big enough to be considered a felony.
  • I've never killed anyone, nor do I kill people for a living.
  • I am not currently, nor have I ever been an exotic dancer.
See? Nothing to hide. Air cleared. Case closed. Fin.

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