Don't Wanna Bare It All Out; It's Cold and Cruel Out There

Roger is up on a platform and talks for an hour or so at a stretch. The gist is that humans tend to collapse what happened in their past with the story that they tell about what happened in the past. Forgive and forget; if you cling to your “story” that your father was a mean drunk who beat you, you’ll get trapped in that word-picture, and never open up any possibility in your life.

In delivering this message, Roger raises weighty questions and makes lots of challenging literary references, but everything important is said twice (everything important is said twice). It’s like he’s talking to a Nobel-winning cat. He wants conflicts recounted as “I said ‘— — ’ and then she said ‘ — — ’ ”

If you tell him, “My boss was surly and unpleasant,” Roger will say: “No, she wasn’t surly and unpleasant. What did she say?” This is grueling to watch, though it leads to some breakthroughs; the exercise’s humiliation/approbation axis is highly reminiscent of “Antiques Roadshow.” Once the conflict has been limned, the sharer is encouraged, regardless of his antagonist’s malfeasance, to forgive or apologize to that antagonist — a fact that caused one of my classmates, hilariously, to raise her hand at one point to ask, “Is the other person ever wrong?”

source: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/11/28/fashion/28Landmark.html?pagewanted=2&ref=fashion

In my story, I'm the protagonist, and someone must have wronged me somehow right? But from the antagonist's point of view, I'm the bad apple here, so under the same matter above, I would like to say thanks? Whatever it is, the real culprit for this ongoing feud is the silent one who planned (or unplanned?) everything out since day one. But that's a long dying story I do not want to meddle with. I have to deal with the aftermath of the emotional war until I die, seriously no kidding, and thank you very much it was a crushing blow to my face when I found out the consequence of what happened years ago is back to haunt me. Anyhow, they are like cruel kids who ostracize the freak in school, that's exactly how I felt since day one. I have to forgive these cruel unloved kids so that I can move on. And I will. I forgive you all for not having the attention and tender loving care in your early childhood that led you to this. I forgive you, bastards, bitches, scumbags and jerks. I forgive you all. It's been a lovely ride in hell thank you very much. And for those bitches who have been so shameless to get to know me again, and those jerks who want to 'keep in touch' in multifaceted ways of communication after the hell I have to go through in my college and post-college days, I would like to say, don't. There's no reason for that mess. I don't know you, and you don't know me anymore.

On another note, don't be surprised if you get a sudden call/message/text/email from me after a long while of absence and forgive me if I'm terribly annoying like a bobble head poking punching pissing you off for no reason. There's something that I wanted to say, but I just couldn't say it, saving it for neverland. I don't want to jinx it. Don't want to bare it all out there in the open, it might catch something else.