Mulling over a few ideas, over mulled cider. Giggling the whole way through at the irony, and fascination of my own word usage. Did you know that 75% of the English language is derived from Greek/Roman language? I couldn't quite figure out "Mull", and it's root. Giggling more.
So why is it that my best friend of 5 years, asks me how I am, and after a year of silence between the two of us, I say "doing great, thank you", when honestly...I've been up the night before sick, am drowning in homework, am a completely stressed out mess at work, and am trying to juggle a new mortgage?
In the meantime, the young man from Bio asked me how I was doing last night after class....and the whole of it came spewing out as if we were best buds and he was my favorite shoulder to cry on.
Seems to me there are different levels of acquaintance/friendliness/TRUST?/and comfort that you can have with/for a person. But why? Is it just the idea that souls understand certain souls better, and our souls know it, so they'll only open up to those other souls responsive enough?
I stir around the cinnamon in my mulled cider and wonder why I'm such an actress sometimes. How I wish I could tell everyone everything and lay it all out on the table. Wouldn't that put an end to such great assumptions and exaggerations?
I suppose by the bottom of the mug that this must be a natural form of protection. You can't tell just anyone, everything for fear of misunderstanding, rejection, improper advice or simply pure ignorance. I find it sad though. All of those reasons have to do with humans being ill-minded and selfish.
Someone pour me a glass of something a little stronger.
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