Perspective

There's nothing like a bus to give you some perspective!
I took a bus halfway there and all the way home from where i went tonight. This time it was Joe: the should-have-been movie critic, according to his brother who passed away a few years ago.
I learned this as I looked and noticed him speaking very loudly...to nobody. It puts a pit in the back of my throat; I want to cry so much for Joe. Shit, writing that is bringing tears to my eyes...but nothing unstoppable.

At first, I thought Joe was super drunk. Then, I thought he had some mental illness, but was happy. At this point in time, I decided that I was going to write about this: who's the one who's 'crazy'? The one who is happy but who people look at strangely because he doesn't fit in? or the people who are fucking miserable but fit in perfectly? (or the people who are like the Stepford Wives...that's a whole different ball of wax. . . same ball of wax.)

But then, Joe eluded to some sadness too. fuck it all to hell. He started talking about how he'd bet 10-1 that he will probably be handed some misery in the future. He's not a gambling man, Joe, but a $500 bet with 10-1 odds...that's $5000. He'd rather lose that bet.

That's not such a crazy thing to say at all. Meanwhile, his audience of nobody and everybody ignored him, probably pretended to text on their phones, shot glances at him now and then, but generally avoided eye contact. Poor Joe. Is he married? Does he have a home? Did his brother know that he has some emotional issues? Did people try to help him? Does he have a mental disorder? If I'm a psychologist, will I be able to help people like him? It just makes me emotional.

I've talked to people like Joe before...lots of times. If I was sitting by him on the bus, I probably would have been the one to be drawn into his soliloquy. This is where I get into trouble. Now I'm crying. I was brave and strong all night, and now, because of someone else whom I felt for, I'm weak again. As soon as I FEEL, I want to SHARE. Not just want, but I NEED to share. When I think about it, everyone needs to share, which is what worries me about people who don't share very easily. What are we alive for? To appreciate it, do all that we can, and to help others. I think.

So, at first I was hurt that someone left without saying goodbye to me. But I don't really care; I handled it well, and i don't take it personally even if it is personal. It's not meant offensively; he either didn't realize, or I was being unapproachable, or he wanted to have some space after my messages of late. That's perfectly understandable. Everyone needs space sometimes. or is oblivious. or doesn't care. or has his or her own issues. I talked to Y about needing some hobbies...maybe joining a soccer team or playing tennis. She said we should play tennis sometime. I hope that pans out; that made me really excited and hopeful. So, see, I am trying. I just know I have a lot of trouble with boundaries and what's appropriate. Sometimes I share way too much and make people uncomfortable, but because I know that, I THINK sometimes I maybe don't share enough, and so people see me as not wanting to share or something.. I wonder if that's true.

Now I just feel loving and want to love everyone. ugh. Also, I really want to take an afternoon, find an area, and clean up garbage. Is that crazy? Litter is so ugly and rude. Wouldn't it help to just work on a little area?