Monday, March 7, 2011


Splintered glass.

People are made of glass. You can see through them, they are fragile enough for you to break them and they're an endless source of water of emotions and information from which you can drink. I met quite a few people today in different occasions, just like I do on normal week days. I met a shop manager who wore a suit and smile. I met a shop assistant who was busy talking over on the phone, even though I needed some service. I met a friend, a good friend, a life-long friend and acquaintances. I met a new acquiantance as well and enjoyed meeting him, even though he was more of the silent type. I talked over the phone with a person and that classifies as meeting them. A casual phone call in the middle of a busy pedestrian street.

Of all of the people I met today, I knew, to some extent, what they were thinking of. What they were hoping to achieve with me and for me. Of course, my interpretations of their thoughts might be wrong. I thought that the shop manager's smile indicated that we'll be meeting again, in terms of a job interview. The smile could have meant that 'Sorry, buddy. Not a chance." Still, I usually feel like I can see through people. I feel like I'm almost able to manipulate them, just because I seem to know what they're thinking of and what they want. I know how to behave around certain people. One guy is a funny guy, you laugh around him, even though something he says might not be funny. One guy is a silent guy, you listen to him very carefully when he speaks and he thinks the world of you afterwards just because you seemed so interested in him.

Sometimes I feel like such a prick, thinking like this. Thinking that I can control people somehow, thinking that I decide to behave in a certain way around certain people. Then, I think to myself (what a wonderdul world) that people might be doing  the same to me without me noticing it anymore than they notice it.

I spent the last weekend doing nothing but typing album reviews. It felt so extremely good. Doing nothing else but the thing you enjoy the most. Then again, there is more to life than just writing.

.i need you now.

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