Me Mountain & My Friend Wind

I were supposed to post this entry here a long time ago. I had it lying in my computer here. I wrote it some time ago.

I belive I was around fourteen when I changed my idea of bad and good. I found myself innocently to be in certain difficult situations when something had been stolen from the hospital I used to spend a lot of time in. It was money and it was taken from several people. For some reason, I felt guilty. I felt people were looking at me when I walked by, whispering or acting strange, maybe it wasn't really like that, but I imagined it to be so. They really had no reason to suspect me. I stole a minature toy thing from a friend when I were little and felt awful about it for decades. At that time I didn't questioned my bad feeling, I just decided to never do it again. Most of the friends I had at that time stole. One of them stole things from me that she knew I kept as favorites, then she showed them to me later on when I said I had been looking for them, saying she had got one too and that it was sad I had lost mine. She was not a very good friend and usually she was more of a person to be scared of than to have fun with. I never dared to stand up against her, no one did and all in all she were most likely the one that thought me the moral I held to my heart -"The things that no one knows of, isn't bad". She went in my class until I were sixteen. She were the girlfriend from hell and I could have written more about her in this entry, but as they say; -"You should never blame your demon acts on the devil", so I leave her be.

No matter what I was a fairly kind child, especially when you consider the fact that the devil were one of my girlfriends. I did worry a lot about the things I did, the things I didn't do and usually I felt the deeds of others were somehow my fault. I was very shy and innocent in my way of carrying myself, but underneath all of that, I changed the reasons, choices and ideas of everyone in my worried little mind. I never spoke, unless it were with my family or friends and most of the things I boiled in my head never really saw the light of day. I though; what I wonder am I, that dont have to be on a stage to perform, what a creation am I that dont have to speak to create. In my head I were my own master, I had my own kingdom, like any nerd has it in it's joyful feeling of not being seen. The art of invisibility can be an underestimated tool and those that practise it can often be greater actors than those on stage. That's my experience. I knew I had something great right there... On the outside I were a kind child and I usually always meant to be like that from the bottom of my own worlds.

I never stole again, after taking this minature toy thing, except from not returning some library books. The library wasn't a person, so I didn't feel bad about it. Until the day I met a librarian than I came to know and used to talk to. This one got me books that I wanted, but that the libarary didn't have. She got me the books from her own pocket and it seems she had goon to hell and back in order to get a hold of them. After that experience I felt bad about the books I had taken on earlier occasions and not returned. I felt bad about all of them, even those I thought no one would be interested in. I mean, how could I know no one would want to read them? I had behaved like the libarary were my own. I had made immature excuses for my own ego pleasures, because I love books you know. This librarian that I got to know had given the library and all other public places a face. It was probably boring to be a librarian without the visitors that showed some genuine book interest. I liked to think of myself as her favorite visitor, but I had gone evil in my love for books. So, -"when I like a book, I want it to be available to everyone, it's ignorant and selfish of me to not wish it for someone else" -I then thought. I really wanted to be her favorite visitor, from the bottom of my heart. Someone payed for those books, someone that cared about books and people, and I felt that I would probably have liked those book people if I knew them. I started to think like this as I decided to never not return a thing I had borrowed or used in a public place, or from a private person. From then on I decided I would detest all kinds of stealing. My book love was not really genuine if I didn't return the borrowed books.

In the hospital around the same time, I had these guilty feelings. One day I were down in the reception with another patient, that is still a good friend of me, possibly my best friend ever (she is not the girlfriend from Hell). We had been down at the little newspaper shop on the corner. There on the table by the phones lay a wallet that I recalled having seen to belong to one of the patients on our floor. My friend said that we should take it. There were quite a lot of money in it, anyone in the reception area could have taken it, as there were people running in and out. At that time and age we really felt we needed the money. There were so many things we needed, things like candy, chips, food from the Chinese restaurant, cigarettes (we used to smoke secretly) and all these other things we had gotten money from our parents to buy, things we didn't really need, but that were important to us. We used to spend the money we got from our parents pretty fast, always, often we had nothing left in the beginning of the week. We weighed the wallet in our hands, but for me it was something I just couldn't do. I had never stolen money. I had a flashback about the miniature I had stolen when I were little and I also remembered a pink glittery pen I had switched with a blue one around the same time. I had put it back later though. I thought to myself, standing with the wallet; -"I'm not a bad person, I have always been nice, would it change if I took the money?" I remembered my old moral -"The things that no one knows of, isn't bad", but I had changed and that was never really me anyway, it was my girlfriend from Hell's belief, I had wanted her to like me. I had changed, in myself. I felt that it was not so important to me anymore, what people thought of me in these situations. The only thing that matter is what I feel in myself, because if it's truly wrong to judge a person you dont really know, then people has to be honest with themselves first of all.

So I said no. I cant do it. I took the wallet and said that we could go and give it to the reception on our floor. My friend tried to convince me all the way to the reception that we should take it. Then she changed her mind and said that she couldn't agree with me more. She grabbed the wallet from my hands and went over and did a great hero performance at the reception, turning in the wallet. She was not a good actor, she was too bold about it, to cheerful I thought, but no one seemed to notice. I was just happy that I could keep a distance while it was all played out. Because I'm shy, I dont like to be in the middle. I still love my feeling of invisibility. I dont need the love from a crowd. I thought to myself that I had matured, but I hadn't really changed. I was no longer so envious on the outgoing performer, because I realized that they have their week spots too. Sometimes you have to feel sorry for them for their desperate hunt for the spotlight. Sometimes there is something sad in their stressed eager courage. You see it there in the small tiny pauses, you recall it when they step out of the crowd... It makes me want to protect, both myself and her. It makes me know that I have found my friend to be at her best, when she have been with me alone. See, I am not someone to impress, because I've never really cared about these things and she knows that I know, both sides of the play.

In that situation as in so many others, I thought they looked at me and thought to themselves; that she would never turn in the lost wallet, not her. I guess it's a prize to pay to be shy. People suspect you and often you are not as invisible as you like to be. I have often admired my "outgoing turning in the lost wallet friend" for her ways of expressing herself and she has matured up trough the years as well. Underneath it all, she is one of the most wonderful people I have ever met. Often she have helped me out and I have helped her... I'm like the mountain, while she is the wind, sometimes we are really great together.