Reusing Old Posts

I flipped through my livejournal posts from senior year which was fairly amusing, because they are so full of drama.  Though to be fair, my senior year of high school actually was filled with all sorts of drama.  I wasn't making things up.  My last post on my live journal was fairly interesting though.  I wrote it after seeing my first show in college.  It's more of an abstraction than about my actual life, but I think it's pretty, so here you go:

Walking in to an enclosed, crowded space: an air plane, coffee shop, even a class; everyone is a stranger. You don't know them, there are no preconceptions. No baggage. You can choose who you wish to be and if you wish to reinvent, recreate yourself you can.

Sitting next to that person. Just sitting down in that open chair and remaining quiet until some one reaches into your life and grabs you.

They won't shut up, they keep talking and you grow more familiar with them but paradoxically uncomfortable. They pour out their story for you. You can't stop the flow of words. They won't let you. You can't get up and walk away, you need to be here, you need to be touched by this person. You can't.

Listening stirs you up. "No, how can you do that!?"

"No, you have to repent"

"Stop!"

"Don't leave it there! Please!?"

Your emotionally invested now. Some how, this person, this stranger you don't even know has you. You're in their power now and there's nothing you can possibly do about it. "So, what did you do? What's your story? What wrongs have you done?"

You shake your head, deny it all. "It doesn't matter. I've changed. I've repented. This is who I am now."

They smile. "Who are you? You who claims to be more than mere mortal. You have sins. You are human."

No. No. How can they know? How can they see everything? You shake, clench your hands, shudder. Let it drop. Please, please let it drop. Don't bring up my past.

They do. They leave your mind, but won't let go of their hold over you. They continue their story.

"How can human beings be so evil?"

"No, it doesn't feel good. I don't like it. No!" Deny it all.

You feel yourself talking. Opening up, what has been shut deep within you and your mask starts lower.

It starts to slip.

You tell them, as you have rarely told anyone. You open up and reveal your story. Slowly, ignoring details. Glossing over memories and your deeper past.

You can see them react and you like it. You like that they draw back a little, you can see their pity.

Maybe you tell the details now.
This is how it happened:
This is what I did:
How I lived:

They squirm. We're all human. What they said is true....



"Please, please help me!"

No, no, I can't possibly.

"Please. You've changed. Help me."

But what can I possibly do.

"Life itself is against me. Please......I need you..."

You relent.

It falls.

You tell them how you change. What is different now. How you repented and were made anew. You shed yourself and everything that formerly went with that.

Tears. Their emotions tear at you and you realize what's happening now. They deny they can. They deny they can change.

You can't escape. You plead with them. "No...no...please. You can change. I did."

But what if you didn't? The accusation stand their in their eyes. What if you can't escape who you are? What if no matter what, what if it's always a part of you...

It breaks.