thoughts on a Sunday morning

It never ceases to amaze me that no matter what my intentions are, I have no control over the end result, the interpretation thereof, or the manner of treatment that stems from my actions (or inactions).

I do know one thing, and it is that I am deeply saddened when people behave aggressively towards me, regardless of the reason.  It seems both unfair and unwarranted, considering that I make it a point to be as gentle with others as I possibly can.  (And yet, my mere existence seems to cause pain.) Of course it may be a bit of a contradiction in terms, this public forum to express a wish for personal privacy.  Perhaps it is just a foolish whim of mine to think that I deserve to be treated with the same respect I afford to others.  Or that my desire for the wholeness of others is a reciprocated one.

The conclusion, of course, is increasingly a move away from any sort of self-expression associated with the self, a sort of a schizophrenic anonymity to mend the things that should never have been broken in the first place.