Strangers

#1
Stranger
Strange word to call a person if you think about it, when you dont know the person.
In my experience the stranger is the person you know, you know the person and they know you... one will almost always be stranger than the other.
And how often do you see one person in adoration and the other looking upon them like they are strange?
whatever.
That stuff is all body chemistry and peer pressure.

I'm not really sure yet, as there are some serious deviants worth avoiding, but i may have a slight bias towards conversations with strangers. In my experience, strangers almost always smile and are polite. Conversations are brief and good natured.
i dont necessarily mean just smile and wave or thank you for your money please come again...
a good conversation with a stranger can last seconds... minutes... hours... even longer.

Have you ever really connected with a person and not had a clue who the person is.
lol, internet stuff, is proof of life even a thing nowadays?... i mean i wouldn't believe me either but there comes a point when...

i catually did it, i know what i know and i know what i dont want to know... meaning, people i know... with very few exceptions, i refuse to speak on the phone.
Because of 'strangers'.

Its all about the approach.
be real looking them straight. A friendly greeting is natural. when that doesnt happen its because someone is ignoring or
perhaps immersed in a task, deep in thought...
we all have a little bit of ignorance, no need for belligerence, eh?

I find that strangers can be very helpful, and generous in the doing. The best example i can think of is... the other half of the story, Love a Thousand Miles Away... In a sense i was there but i cant write about all those experiences and the many good deeds of strangers. I have an idea for the story, but its bigger than i am and i just wont betray the trust.
That person was by any rational description a stranger to me until familiarity developed and real time face to face conversations.

i think its a story worth telling, just not for me to say.

And as some of you know, some of the best conversations with 'strangers' take place in between the moment of a smile, a nod, and the twinkle of the eye...

because faith in God, faith in one's self, and faith in our fellow's mankind.
Only the bravest souls.

Re: Strangers

#2
One of the reasons why I love my city is the kindness of strangers.

As with everything, there are exceptions. However, in general, I find them open, friendly, helpful and kind.
I tend to be shy when I do not know someone. But they observe and sometimes greet and approach.

I have the habit of going for daily morning walks and hanging out in parks a lot. I also love doing excercise in the public gyms at the parks. I am usually shy and do not approach people; I do my own thing. However, sometimes they sit close to me and start chatting... It is like they released a beast, because when they start talking to me then I start talking and sharing my philosophies and views openly with them.

I have found out that some of these people are quite open-minded and that we share some views.

In the end, their kindness reminds me of the benevolent side of humans.

I feel love for some strangers.

Re: Strangers

#3
I should mention,
the person i most often perceive as a stranger is myself. Even around family.

My cousin found herself a new guy, at the last family event he didn't want to participate. She was disappointed. So i went there with a plate of food from the gathering just in case i couldn't convince him.
I know he felt like a stranger, and shy.
So i let him have it, both barrels you might say, i told him to get over his self pity and that he was a part of the family. I told him his woman loved him and was proud, that she was disappointed to not be able to show him off to the rest of the family if he wouldn't go.
Granted, i cussed at him a little too, but he got his butt out of bed and made my cousin proud again for the rest of the day. He had a good time.
And i left. Because as much as i know i'm loved and accepted, i still feel like the stranger.

Re: Strangers

#4
I agree LaTortiseNoir..I too feel like a stranger around my family. They love, accept, & support me unconditionally, yet I do not talk to them about my experiences. I've tried & theres only so far they are willing to believe. So it's like locking a part of yourself away.

Theres only one person in the physical world I can talk to about any of it. It doesn't matter what it is, he listens.

Most of the time I don't feel the desire or inclination to discuss my experiences/beliefs with people...at all. I do with this one because I feel everyone needs a grounding support.

I'm not saying I'm anti-social in social settings..I very seldom feel comfortable in a group of people. As if I'm always the odd one out.

Re: Strangers

#6
this true story was a lot of trouble to post due to censorship.
The offending word or phrase... the name of a common game of cards.
In case you're wondering, yes i lost everything to the game,
and no, i dont like to go anywhere any more,
especially to friends, family, and anywhere public or private.

enjoy...

Well, setting melancholy to the side, because it is not something that needs a reason to exist, it is only a sadness of itself.

two years ago
Lets revisit the bar where a dark haired woman is nursing a drink. She is a stranger to me. Remember this as the story unfolds
She is sitting at the bar where the drinks are mixed. I'm sitting at the farthest available dark corner of the establishment, not so far from where she is perched, close enough to clearly hear spoken words.
Her name is intriguing.

The waitress is a friend who became as family (implying love but not like, its all good but its not all good). She is informing the young woman of something very significant, and her finger points at me... meanwhile i'm thinking how useless the money was for me and planning to give my Sis a 50 for the drink and keep the change.

She approaches my table to inform me that my presence is required on the next night, because another relative will be visiting and its time for us to meet.
It doesnt feel right, but i accept the invitation anyway, wondering why she is acting so happy to see me and have me show up the next night again.

The next day i show up as promised. My sister/friend is not looking well compared to the night before. She is unkempt and visibly saddened. There are fresh pizzas at the crowded table, they are barely touched so i refuse the offer not knowing what game is afoot. Sis looks at me with sad eyes, 'he gave us free Pizza, but you were right, it wasn't worth it'.

I dont know what she means. I have an idea, but all i really know is that her boss is someone i'd just as soon (edited).

I start noticing people i've met before, somewhere, from a deeply buried past not worth looking back at. I say to myself, 'fine, bring it, i dont care any more, i'm going to have a good time and so what if they try to Kill me again'.

I notice a young lady attracting attention, dancing, singing kareoke and having a good time. Sis leans over and asks, 'did you see my other sister and say hi yet?'

No, i reply. She points to her sister, the young lady i noticed dancing and singing. 'You should go say hello'.
In my own time i leave the table to cross the open floor, chance having it that we meet, and so i introduce myself. Soon we are fully engaged in conversation and the rest of the room seems to disappear...

except for a dark haired woman that was sitting at the bar the night before... her presence cuts though the excitement of our meeting, standing near but just out of reach, i notice the dark bitterness in her eyes glaring at me. The feeling of contempt is unmistakeable, and i think to myself the truth of this is in me somewhere, yet she is a stranger to me... how dare she look at me this way... if she indeed does know me... how dares she?... and then the dark haired woman leaves the bar.

Puzzling, to say the least, i'd rather that there were nothing to say at all, however trust once breached, like the feeling of safety, does it ever really come back again? Absolutely, but not like its shiny and new to grow and flourish undamaged.

So the evening progresses onward and at the end we all decide to congregate at Sis's house for a game of cards.
Really really really not my style. But my newly met Sister of my Sis is having a great time and so why spoil it.

There are two men sitting across from me, younger than i, but not youthful. Their eyes are grey and dull, like something in them died, the life is gone out of them, yet they are fully aware of everything.
There is a lull and distraction in the game, and it is near the end of it, perhaps a few more rounds to play out.
nobody sees it, nobody hears it.
Everyone else is looking away, distracted in whatever drunken conversation wafted towards them.
The two men across from me catch my attention purposefully by looking intently into my eyes, at the same time.
to say, yes, we're looking at you, you paying attention, now listen...

One of them makes a drawing motion, and i dont mean art, although it technically is... an art... a dark art...
Knowing i recognize the motion for what it is, he looks me straight in the eye and says,
"We're the ones that were sent to kill you. Sorry. its what we do."

i said nothing. My eyes told them everything they needed to know in that moment. They know how furious i am that i lived through it.

The game resumed and i didn't ruin anyone's party, which soon ended anyway of its own accord.
But the thing that got me most that night are the words my Sis's sister said to me openly, in front of everyone just before i was leaving.
"Please", she said, "come back home"... spoken clearly, she meant to where she travelled from, her own home.

Strangers, always the words of strangers. Nothing i can say or do, words like boulders in an avalanche crushing my soul into unwanted ignorance. What they want and look for is gone from me, no longer exists, debriefed, removed... and im a stranger to my own self without knowing it. Did they ever even meet the real me to begin with? And it has been clearly stated also, that none of them are the slightest bit interested in the real me.

A matriarchal slip of the tongue, suggestions, and i've been summoned to another gathering of family...

But i'm a stranger...

and i dont want to say no just because my yes's are broken.

So what's a stranger to do?

damn it

say something
https://youtu.be/-2U0Ivkn2Ds

Re: Strangers

#8
Thank you Cheeneka, you see everything too, and i respect your vision... it's true.

***Also, to be noted, the censorship i encountered trying to post this story has absolutely nothing to do with the owner or management of this forum. It is entirely absurd and just one of those things that could only ever happen to me... much the same as the underlying truth in the story... completely indescribably absurd is all i can say about it.
however, if a game of hide and seek is your kinda thing then go ahead and find the reason... there is one, i know i seen it... however elusive as might be the pursuit of the reason of love.... good luck!.. only the bravest!... when i reverse the spelling of this word... rekop... try it and tell me if im crazy or not... stuff really makes me wonder sometimes therefore probably yes lolol!!!
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