I have been to several funerals and I have shed my share of tears, just to keep up with appearances. There was a bit of truth in my sorrow, but there was always this pressure to visibly show how I felt. So I have always questioned myself about my lack of sincerety.
When my Dad passed away, I made up my mind to be completely sincere in my affection for him. There were moments when I was almost ready to burst, but I held back; for all the crocodile tears that I had shed, there had to be some sense of justice. And so it was, to this day I haven’t shed a single drop of tear for my father.
My heart feels hardened and I don’t feel like there is any good left in me. I heard some where that we are the heroes in our own lives, that each of us can justify the actions of our past no matter how troubling or horrible it maybe. We are the product of our thoughts. I have lived my life trying to fulfill a lie, lies that I project to the wayfarers.
These days it feels more easier to exhibit myself, to reveal the ugliness of my double standards, dishonesty and wayward life. You see fake people have an image to maintain, but real people just don’t care. Sincerity and truth is basis for every virtue. So even though I am not perfect, I’d rather be known for my weaknesses and failures, because I will have received my condemnation and judgement while I’m still alive.
on a lighter side, I have a sincere story or two that may make you smile
I remember once, when my dad gave me money to pay the electricity bill, but instead I bought a lottery ticket for a brand new car. When I got home, I explained to my Dad what I did and he beat the crap out of me. The next day, when my dad woke up and opened the door, outside my house was a brand new car. We all cried especially me, because the car was from the electricity company, they were there to cut off the electricity, my dad beat the crap out of me again !!! :(
I hate it when you offer someone a sincere complement on their mustache and suddenly she’s not your friend any more.