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06:27:2004 Entry: "Ann : Pig Heart"
Pig Heart
One thing that really bugs me is when people have you pegged wrong. It's bad enough when people who don't know you think you're a certain way when you're not, but for the simple fact that they *don't* know you and are willing to make that prejudiced leap of faith with nothing to back it up, just shows they're ignornant fools and can easily be dismissed. But when someone who is supposedly a good friend doesn't really know what makes you tick, you feel a deep sense of being cheated or robbed of all those years you've known them. One day you wake up and realize they never really understood a thing about you. They never understood your art (you excused that because they weren't an artist), they didn't understand your passions or your profession. You shared laughs together, but when the laughs go away, there is nothing left. Where once was a laugh is now substituted by 'how is your work going?' and you know they're just making small talk, and they don't really care, because how could they? If you explained to them exactly how it was going, they'd tune you out because they don't understand what the hell you do anyway. It didn't bother you before, maybe because the subject of your work was never a topic before because there were always 'fun' things to talk about and do instead. And whenever it did come up, it quickly went away. You always suspected they didn't 'get it' but it was ok, they were a nice person and fun to be around. But there is no more fun.
In the past it was ok that they weren't music lovers to the extent you were, after all, not everyone is a fan. But they do like music they say, and they like a lot of the musicians you like...but then you realize it was all image. They liked someone because they *liked the way they looked* and really understood nothing of the music. This is a serious blow to your aesthetics.
And they supposedly enjoy a lot of the same movies you enjoy (or so they say), but when they buy their very first DVD, they choose 'The Ghost and Mrs. Chicken.' I kid you not.
You then realize...it's over. There is nothing more. How could there be?
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I feel nothing, no loss. The friendship has died and the friend will die. I feel no sadness, not even anger, just frustration and infuriation at the stupid things he does, like smoking before heart surgery. How can anyone be so stupid? This is the kind of thing he criticized the uneducated and impoverished parents of his special needs students for. Hypocrite. The poor pig that will be sacrificed for its valves will give its life for nothing. Somewhere, there is someone who needs heart surgery, someone who truly wants a second chance. Someone who doesn't smoke. Someone who doesn't have insurance. But there will be no pig valve for them. For them, no pig will sacrifice its life so they can die.
I cry, but not for him. I cry for the pig. Poor pig. I even feel bad for the doctors, (imagine that!) they will be wasting their efforts for what, so he can go back to smoking? But for him I feel nothing, no loss. Have I hardened that much? Am I so calloused with friendships gone bad? The friendship doesn't make sense.
'There's no feeling where there's no sense.'