Sometimes I ask myself…”Am I really the person I want to be? Am I kind enough? Am I selfless enough?”
Then I realize, all of these questions popped out because, well, truth is, I base my life on the words people say around me.
The thing I hate most about myself is my ‘great idea-ponder it-will people approve-maybe not-then don’t do it’ personality. It mostly happens when I see street people begging along the dirty and crowded streets of the busy City, sleeping on the cold floor full of spit and snot, and children going through trash bins for some spare food.
There is always this nature of me to help out, to look back and actually give the person spare money that I usually have. But even if I want to, my damn self-consciousness shows itself and glues me to the ground I am on and urges me to look away and keep on walking. I realize now that I am much of a hypocrite as the higher-ups of our government that I scorn and bash about.
Saying I feel bad about myself doesn’t even cut it. I despise myself… I feel very much ashamed of myself that sometimes I just want the ground to swallow me whole.
Whenever I let the opportunity of helping someone out slip past my finger tips, this overwhelming ache in my chest suddenly appears…making me guilty for the whole day.
It leaves me only to wonder, am I not using the excess resources that I have wisely? Am I becoming one of ‘them‘–one of the materialistic people replacing their oxygen supply for crack and nicotine? Am I becoming the hypocrite that I despise so much?
My million dollar question…Am I the epitome of all the people I described vehemently on my past blogs and un-filed articles? Do I abhor myself so much that I eventually led myself to believe that I am a whole new other person?
Deep…I know, but the number of questions floating in my mind constantly leaves me gasping for answers.
I love helping people, I want to help people; but my pride, my prejudice, and my selfishness gets in the way of such things. It keeps me from helping the helpless and shivering sectors of this poor country.
Little by little I am disappointing myself…because little by little, I am becoming one of them–an act that can only be attributed through my endless study and observation of the human specie interaction…and i so desperately want to break that possible reality.
Am I only a facade of who I really am? Will I be able to break free from the precarious stares and unending whispers of the shadows of my reality?
I don’t want to…I want to.