Wednesday 9 March 2016

Substance

http://www.zerochan.net/1977124#full

This is the first time in a long while since I've hurried to my laptop to type a post in order to clear my head of strong thoughts. Not strong in a good way, but strong in a sense that I can't seem to tear myself away from them - as if they are multiplying and overflowing like bubbles. 

Words are my comfort. They carry such depth and can differ subtly depending on how you wield them. They can be a balm for wounds, and a weapon of spite at the same time - just like the expression of words cutting deeply. 

Yet words can be empty too. They are void of the actual meaning they are meant to carry. I've always abhorred empty words - making promises you can't keep, offering help you can't and won't give, or simply saying things you don't actually feel. The feeling of being cheated as a receiver of such words is unbearable and off-putting, and the feeling of irresponsibility as the giver of such words is full of wretchedness. Indignance, disappointment, rage are a few emotions I harbour towards these.

A cousin of mine who was just released this year after having served his prison sentence for a gambling offence keeps asking me:

"I can trust you right?"

Whenever he asks me for help. Of course, I want to give my support in a way that I can. Yet after a while I began to question the mutuality of this "trust" he is referring to.

Does his trust in me refer to an expectation of unconditional, readily available assistance to whatever request he has regardless of morality? That my very own problems and reasoning and morals do not matter? When I try to reason with him on some requests I refused to fulfil such as loaning a sum of money to him, he pleads and reiterates his difficult situation. When I offer an advice or suggestion, he tells me I do not and cannot understand his situation and whatever I say wouldn't work. 

This "trust" seems to be one where you expect me to give full agreement without critical understanding and reasoning to your problems, where my own life, my mind and my problems do not exist or matter. Bluntly put, I'm just a convenient solution to your problems. You think I am a tape recorder that plays the agreeable words you want to hear, the self-sacrificing lifeless help you think you are entitled to have.

But that's not what trust is, at least to me. In fact, I don't think my idea of what trust means differs much from any Tom, Dick or Harry down the street. Trust is mutual, and when you entrust someone with something, you have confidence in that person to make the right and best decision about it. That involves getting to know the person well enough to be able to have faith in his judgements and actions. Not this one-sided impostor of a word that is meant to carry so much weight and consequence. Not in my dictionary.

I therefore prize the values of honesty and responsibility very highly compared to other important values. You may think "Why do you bother so much about such a trivial utterance of a few words? It's not going to kill anyone." I acknowledge everyone is different, so maybe you won't mind or take to heart empty words. That level of assurance is commendable, even.

Yet in my experiences, having people give you hope in your difficult moments only to realise that they are false is cruel and painful. You wait and wait forever for the help that never actualises and despite your growing doubts, decide to trust in the promises and agreeable words they put on repeat like a broken tape recorder. To say words that you don't actually mean may seem inconsequential as long as you pull it off well and make sure they never know. Sometimes you might deem it necessary to say those things to "protect"your relationship with someone. Yet in reality sometimes people including your very own self appreciate the truth much more than what's nice to the ears. And if you have to lie to keep something, it's not worth keeping for a long time at all.

Just like how we want to prove ourselves as people of substance, the words we use should reflect that as well!