Sensitive
3/11/07
Once there was someone who was very sensitive.
They Felt much of what others were going through, good and bad.
It felt like everyone else was screeching or howling or giggling or humming;
hurling these emotions and overwhelming with the knowledge of discontent as well as driving them along with mirth and happiness.
Stunned and aloft in the eddies and currents of other's visceral emanations, they slowly learned, by trial and error, how to dampen the onslaught of the emotional broadcasting. A mental valve, slowly twisted, reducing the flow more and more... until the clamor was squeezed into a barely perceptible trickle.
Managing the din, they could now focus on what was going on.
They didn't think to turn the valve back the other way for many, many years.
People considered that they were cold, heartless, cruel and uncaring.
Yes, it certainly seemed that way, but deep inside, the tender, hidden tears loomed.
One day, events conspired to bring to their attention that rarely is someone perceived as cruel given much consideration by those who dispense kindness.
Slowly, it became apparent that not only were they denied kindness, but that there was a sort of lie going on each time they valiantly refused to show pain or dismay.
It no longer seemed noble to suffer silently - providing the illusion of invincible strength by walling off all awareness of what may hurt.
There was a gathering shift in perspective, and they realized they needed to expose their sensitivity in order to be more human, to be more willing to interact with others in their pain and by delving into the morass of discomfort and even agonies shared and exposed, they became far more alive.
They finally began to see what benefits and sacrifices were required for living a full life, and they started tearing down the facade, brick by brick; hoping one day they would become a really valuable, loving and loved human.
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