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Why don't I care?

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posted on Apr, 24 2007 @ 12:47 AM
Whats wrong with me?

Why don't I care that my best friend is in the hospital dying?
Why don't I care that I have cancer?
Why don't I care that I'm broke?
Why don't I care about other peoples feelings?
Why didn't I care when 9/11 happened?
Why don't I care when I hear horrible news?
Why don't I care when people talk # about me?
Why don't I care about death?
Why don't I care about anyones death?
Why don't I care if I steal something from my friend and get away from it?
Why don't I care about any of my friends problems?
Why don't I care how someone is doing, or how their weekend went?

Why am I so happy?
Why am I nice to everyone?
Why do I enjoy helping people?
Why do I always do everyone favors?
Why do I sacrifice myself for my friends?
Why do all of my friends tell me everything?
Why do I never say no?
Why do I always fight for my friends?

I thought I knew myself. I guess I don't have a clue. I don't understand why I am so care-free and indifferent.

Am I just a modern day hippie?

posted on Apr, 26 2007 @ 09:22 AM
I hear you, 1Crisis.

I'm sorry to learn about the cancer. There is much hope for your recovery, though, so don't give up.

Don't stop caring about yourself.

posted on Apr, 26 2007 @ 10:20 AM
First things first, although I'm given the impression you won't be too impressed- I'm sorry to hear about all that stuff you're having to deal with and I hope that things turn around. I don't know the first thing about that kind of problem to be honest so i just don't want to say too much- I can't even pretend to understand it. But good luck for what its worth.

As for the why...

I think it would be more than a little presumptuous for me to try and tell you who you are or why, but I can identify with a couple of the things you've mentioned and I don't mind telling you why I think its that way in my own life.

I don't usually cry when people die. Years ago I stopped getting upset when my mom chooses drugs or abusive men over her family. I didn't cry when my wedding engagement broke up about 3 hours before the rehersal, and I really did love her- I just dont cry. Actually I felt very good about the decision I'd made and was pretty happy off and on after that, even though I missed her.

I don't like most people, even before I meet them. Even the people I do like usually bore me. I don't have relationships just for the heck of it. I stick to people because there is something in it for me- not materially, but mentally/psychologically.
About half of my friends and acquaintances are just people who are extremely interested in the things I know, and so we occasionally go out for coffee or a beer or whatever and I break down the inner workings of the universe for them. I tell them interesting things and they are interested in what I have to say and that makes us both happy. We don't usually talk about our days, we rarely "do anything" together beyond drinking coffee and talking, and we never talk about our families.
A few others I have because they are the rare sort that have something to say that interests me- Bosky is twice the poet I'll ever be, Pio is certifiably insane, Jeremy is almost as depressing a presence as myself, Stormy has been all over Europe and I'd kill for a chance to date her, etc.

But there's nobody in that group, and only 2 people in my family (my brothers, who lead extremely interesting and dangerous lives) who I want to hear about recent personal events from. When my grandmother recounts her appointments and store visits of the day, stopping at each one to tell me what was wrong with the customer service person at that particular establishment, then gives the same old sigh and says she's too young to be exhausted by all of that.... I love my grandma but I want to curse at her, because I can't do anything with what that information, and it is almost invariably interrupting some very complex thought- a plot I'm thinking of writing or an alternative history or a war that might be fought or a better mousetrap... at any given time I'm probably creating something and I don't want to stop and talk about people's day.

My saving grace is that nobody suspects just how cold I am towards them because I compulsively go charging in to other people's problems at the first invitation and work harder at it than they do. I suspect that it's because it elevates me in my own mind, or because it challenges me... or maybe because I subconciously believe that there will be either a worldy or cosmic reward for doing the right thing, though my outer cynic would never believe something like that.

I think for me all of that is a product of a few things: number one, I'm too smart for my own good. Number two, people made a really bad impression on me when I was young- all they ever did was making things worse for me. Same for emotions. 3. I don't believe in God, and if there was one I probably wouldn't like him. Aside from being the conclusion that my mind is best able to support, it's also fairly convenient- it takes the consequence- in both senses of the word- out of a lot of things.

Of course in my case it actually has made me a bit of a materialist as well- and I'm not happy exactly- it's just that feeling bad doesn't hurt for me- I sometimes enjoy a brief spell of depression.

I also despise virtually anything that society popularly decides. I cared about 9/11, but people were being drama queens about it and it really made it hard for me to care as much as I should have. At the end of the day, I had forgotten the towers were there until the first plane hit, I didn't know anyone who was in any danger, I had nothing to lose, and I knew damn well we were gonna repay the favor in spades. It wasn't a new Pearl Harbor- Pearl Harbor heralded the realization of a great threat to our freedom. We'd just found ourself in the midst of a two-front war, both fronts over separate seas, and a good portion of our navy had just become a smoking heap. I didn't see that happening on 9/11. Honestly, I think the people who acted most hurt by it are the ones who wouldn't trade 9/11 for anything- I think they were glad something important had happened in their lives and they were desperate to be a part of it. So I think you're just perfectly normal on that count.

[edit on 26-4-2007 by The Vagabond]

posted on Apr, 26 2007 @ 01:36 PM

I never really know what to say at times like this. I could go with the whole "most of my family has had cancer" message, and give inspiring tales of their survival. I could say things like "I'll pray for you" and "I'll send positive energy your way" and so forth. I could even send you a whole bunch of links on cancer treatments...

...but to be honest, I don't think that's why you posted that poem.

If I read your poem correctly, you're basically asking why bad things happen to good people.

They just do. It sucks. In 31 years I've seen a lot of great men and women get the shaft by mother nature's less tender mercies. It isn't right, it isn't fair, and at the time it happens you want to take people who say "It's part of a greater plan" and slap them in the face till they feel even a fraction of the pain you do.

I hope it's treatable, man. If it's not, then make the most of life and don't stop being a good person. It's easy to be a good person when things are going well. It's really hard to remain a good person when your body and world are crumbling around you. Stay strong. Do the right thing. And don't give up the pen.

posted on Apr, 28 2007 @ 09:05 PM
Thanks to those who replied.

Upon re-reading my first post I realized that maybe I do know myself, I made a whole list about myself. I guess I didn't really expect any feed-back because, even I wouldn't know how to answer any of those questions. I understand myself but there always lies the great big unanswered question "why?"

In the past few days I've considered turning a new leaf and becoming more more outspoken, opinionated, and basically mean. I tried it for a day and found out that it's not who I am and it's not who I want to be. I enjoy being nice to everyone even if in my mind I'm having the worst day of my life.

I can honestly say that I have absolutely no clue how in the world anyone can ever take out their aggression on someone else or more importantly, their friends and family.

As for the lung cancer that I was just recently notified of. I haven't accepted my fate. I refuse to believe that anything like this can break my will to live. The cancer had already consumed my lungs and started to spread before I even knew about it. I should already be dead, and the way I see it, as long as I've lived longer than my expectancy, I can continue to live beyond it. I live my life the exact same hectic way as I did before I knew about what I was diagnosed with.

Although I won't ever care for myself more than I'll care for my friends or family, I still believe that maybe I care more about myself than I'm willing to admit.

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