On Friendship - 12/11/07

I've made this one public, because while all my friends are on my hotlist, I want the entire pervy microcosm to be able to read it, and hold you hotlisted friends accountable for actually being my friend.

When i succeed, i want you on my bandwagon. I want you there, hooting and hollering with me, because goddamnit that's good stuff. I want you there, with bells on your toes, singing and dancing and laughing it up with me, because joy's better when it's shared, and that's what friends do.

When i'm blue, i want you to show me your rainbow (kitten just verped, i know), and remind me that there's colour, lots of colour, if i open my eyes and see it. 'Cause sometimes the blue's so shiny that you get lost in it, and forget that it's even prettier when you're looking at it from the green. I want you to remind me of that, because good friends bring crayons.

And when i can't see the truth - my truth - i want you to be my mirror. Not one of those carnival mirrors that further distorts everything, because i can't possibly put my makeup on and face the world with those bastards, and not one of the mall mirrors that makes you look just a little longer and thinner (y'all know they really are made and sold that way, right?) so i can tell myself that i look ok..but a real, genuine, sound mirror that shows me every burgeoning zit and just how sparkling my eyes really are.

I expect that. Because that's what friends do. They be an accurate mirror, an honest mirror, and love you enough to overcome the fear that if they tell you really AREN'T the fairest in the land, you won't smash them and buy a compact.

I don't promise that to every person i encounter online, because i'm not prepared to commit to that kind of responsibility or obligation. Simply put, i'm not your friend, and i don't want to be. It's a lot of work, this friendship thing, and i take my work seriously, 'cause that's how i roll.

I expect that you do too, if you call me your friend. 'Cause i get to be selfish about it, and your friendship isn't your gift to me, your willingness to be complicit in our friendship is. I work for you. I expect the same in return.

For those of you that call yourself friend out there, to me, or to others, but spend your time being a carnival mirror...how do you manage to convince yourself you're doing the loving thing, the kind thing, the caring thing? If you're not helping, you're harming, or your disengaged. How is that love?

And since i posted it elsewhere, and don't know that it'll be left to stand:

"I'm just a human" is not, in this moralist's world, excuse enough for making the choice (time and again) to be a shitty one. That's called a copout and, like any other choice one makes, if one's not prepared to accept the consequences - all possible consequences - of that choice, one should rethink it. 'Cause no one that I know asks perfection, but plenty i know do demand accountability and reason.

As my friends, don't copout with the "I'm only human, ergo, i get to be a fuckup" excuse. As Goethe said, “If I accept you as you are, I will make you worse; however if I treat you as though you are what you are capable of becoming, I help you become that”.

Instead of allowing a friend to wallow in unhappiness (when said friend says it's not the place s/he wants to be in), why not remind him/her that "The summit of happiness is reached when a man is ready to become what he is" (Desiderius Erasmus)? Because stroking their hair and telling them how pretty their ugliness is is only going to make them become that, and the view from that summit sucks.

Good times. God love the interwebs.