do-gooders flee now

From: cburke@nexus.yorku.ca (Carolyn L Burke)
Date: Wed, 6 Sep 1995 11:00:44 -0400
To: aaron@io.org (Aaron Weiss)
Subject: Re: ?HAPPY?

Aaron writes:

I am multithreaded -- I think about some things while writing others. Aside from everything else, I want to make it clear that I make no demands on your having to be or act happy in any given circumstance. How artificial is that. Social people do tend to relay that message to one another ("cheer up") but I don't want to do that -- offers of help are not masked offers of creating happiness, they are pragmatic. That's my view, anyway, who the hell knows what anyone else thinks. Back to www clients!

Bullshit. You make no demands but you do have feelings. Some of the so-called demands are built in social things that even you have. Also don't simply think that I write about you in the Diary (I think that is what you have done here). That place is a DIARY in fact. I'm not in the mood anymore currently to simply not write because of the backlash of responses that people who read the thing will cause.

Offers of help - if I have not been clear - are what I am finally rid of in not living with Peter. He of course had a worse case, that of labelling the situation an emergency whenever offering help. Please understand that I am bloody-well sick of help. Help lost me my cat. Help causes me to work too much when my philosophy is to only play. Help made me pretty well write off all of humanity last night as all seem homogeneous and therefore unimportant to me.

I am putting this in the diary as a warning to the rest of do-gooders coming my way. Sorry, but true. I suspect that people are strangely disillusioned when I seem to like them - they take this as them meeting my standards. Guess what. They don't usually. In fact currently noone is.

Here is a bit of explanation of this comment. I am making due with the best I have access to. In other words I am not so good at finding people who actually do meet my standards. I am pissed off, and tired of pushing myself under to be a bit more considerate of people.

My best friend failed me in something important. My partner as he calls us nowadays is a fluffy poet who takes everything I say as instructions on how to treat me. I am taking a break now. Here I have been worrying about not knowing enough people to get together a paintball game. Fuck it.

I seriously considered leaving last night. No cat to look after. Nothing else would make a difference. Lucky me that even in such a depressed state I am not a suicidal person anymore. Remarkable. But lucky only.

I was writing about how being alone finally feels. I think I'll go back to that.

And hope that people stop copying me even in self revelation strategies.


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