Inner Circle of Hell

A lot of people who know me don't know I'm a horrible person, but I can't say that no one knows either; people's perception of me is based on their social distance and on their own behavior.


The outermost ring of people in my life are family.  These people, including my immediate family, know less about me than any single acquaintance of mine.  You could get more inside information about me from a random person who sat next to me in class in college than you could by asking my parents and or siblings.


It's normal to hide things from our families; everyone does it and it doesn't automatically make you a horrible person.  But the volume of what I hide, the degree of their shock if they ever found out - actually who am I kidding - they'd just be in denial about it.


Next we have acquaintances, my "good" friends, and the perpetual gray area that exists between these two groups.  I feel so god-damn uncomfortable around these people - accomodating their beliefs and virtue, when in reality, some of these people are just as bad as I am, but just as I have relegated them to a distant spot in my social life, they've likewise done so with me.  This means that they're hiding their true self as well.  So I think you can begin to see the absurdity of it all: we hang out, pretend that we're both good people, then retreat into our private worlds to commit the same sin that we could never admit to each other.  Then we get to my real friends.


My real friends are people like me: those who hearts died a long, long time ago.  People who don't make me feel bad for who I am, if only because they don't want to face the reality that they themselves are bad people as well.  It would like shatter their ******* universe.  And then of course, there's my final, innermost circle, and that's simply me.  The world I live in that I don't tell anyone about - ever.  Meeting strangers, having sex with them, then never telling anyone about it.  You begin to wonder who else out there is like you, other than the other psycho you just had sex with.  If people knew who I was, I don't think they'd be able to handle it.  But that's just the thing -  I don't think they want to know.  Oh they love people's scandals - people who are not their friends.  People whose behavior they do not have to defend.  Because if there's the possiblity that your continued friendship is going to give them grief, controversy, reason to have to defend you to others, and have their own reputation damaged in the process, then you can most likely forget about that person ever being your friend again.  It's the way of the world.

Whatever Whatever
26-30, M
Oct 20, 2006