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Just a Word

July 22, 2010

Have you ever felt incredibly drawn to a word, just a single word? (I suppose this is actually an inherent draw to the concept the particular word relates to, but whatever.)


That’s the word that spawned this post.

Over at the Panther in Pumps blog, I read this today:

“Would it matter if I was married? Would it matter then?” I challenge him. I feel sorry for us, for people who think the rules don’t apply.

“We have this symbiotic relationship, you and I. No, it wouldn’t matter.”

I too often think the rules don’t apply to me. In fact, they often do not. I function outside of a given set of rules, outside of society’s definitions of acceptable behavior, of right and wrong. And I think it doesn’t matter. I think I make the rules.

I don’t break promises. I don’t tell lies. I’m a good little girl. But I’m quite careless when it comes to tertiary actors, and how my actions affect them. If you’re not part of me, part of my life, then I usually don’t see much use in involving the concept of your existence in my reality.  And I’m ok with that.

It’s a dangerous game. I play it well. But, to most, I’m just cheating. To most, they are lies. I’m not the one telling them, but I am complicit in the fact that they are told, and I sometimes encourage it, if it gets me what I want.

Lies to myself: no. Lies to others:  not directly. So, I think it doesn’t matter.

I sometimes want others to play my game, to see how my rules could benefit them, which is really just me trying to make my own rules benefit me most effectively. Do I want a world of cheaters? No. But, if I am unaffected, do I care either way? No.

Then I stop and question: Am I not, in fact, simply covering the lies I tell myself? Perhaps. But it’s easier not to think about it.

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