Saturday, May 30, 2009

Tissue Box







I spoke to someone not so long ago. We talked, or more like I talked and she listened. She managed to find some sense amidst my tangled webs and finally, at the end of our conversation she explained:

You're like a tissue box. See this tissue box? It has many sides and each side has a different picture - like you. You have different sides and you show certain people certain sides. No one ever really sees all your sides cause it just isn't possible. It is impossible to look at a tissue box and see all it sides at the same time. Only when you turn it, can you see it. 

But you, my dear, only show what you want to show - and that's fine but it makes it difficult to be completely confident and at ease sometimes, doesn't it? No one can feel self assured when parts of them are not focused. It's just like being wholehearted about things. When you do something wholeheartedly, it turns out well a lot of the time, unless of course it's not meant to for some reason or other. If you're not completely into it, even if you really want it to, it usually never ends well.

Being like a tissue box isn't a bad thing. But when it starts to affect you cause you can't keep up with yourself, then maybe it's time to make a change.

I wasn't thrilled about being compared to a tissue box (it was kleenex, with Winnie the pooh and everything) but it made sense and made me see myself or more like how I tend to look or seem to the people a round me. It got me thinking on how complex we as people can be. Maybe it has something to do with the way we're wired or maybe, it's just that we are only able to make sense of complicated things. Like we're so used to complex things that when something is simple, we have to complicate it to understand it. But of course, complicating simple things isn't the best of ideas.

Life's complicated enough and I guess we should be elated when something simple comes our way but (I blame it on our mechanism) we just can't seem to accept simple things. Like love that comes our way asking for nothing in return.

(ps- Crispina Denise RAPED my ass to write this!)