We all live in our own intimate worlds. I see many though who frequent the world’s of others, but don’t commit to them.
I have many flaws and failings, and for the most part I can accept them with a “I really wish I didn’t do that”. Deep down, there are certain standards I maintain that are concrete.
For example, I hate seeing people getting herded together for photographs, that to me, lose all the loveliness and closeness of those people being together.
I hate cameras up in babies faces, flashing away, something which these little people have no say in.
I hate people constantly checking their phone while members of their intimate worlds, whom they see infrequently, are participating in play or conversation around them.
Why are we so busy making these archives of our lives, when we don’t live our lives to their fullest. There needs to be a balance between being in the moment, and recording the moment. Can you be in the moment if you are recording it?
I hate insincerity.
“Thanks”. A word that people think covers all. Sometimes I prefer not to hear it, when all you’re doing is rattling off something that social convention deems you must. Give thanks with action, with presence, or with sincerity. “Sorry” carries a much greater weight for me.
Don’t take your membership of an intimate world for granted. It’s something that requires constant attention, constant care, and above all undiluted sincerity.
I don’t believe in any higher beings. I don’t believe in any higher worlds. I live where I live, I live in the now, and I try to surround myself with those I love.
My intimate worlds are the most precious places, but they are fragile. Maybe the fragility is part of the cost of membership; an attribute to stimulate the organism’s fear of loneliness.
I work hard to protect my intimate worlds. Can one’s standards, one’s rules, ultimately destroy them?