Time for an assessment

New world? Definitely, at least for me it is. Brave? No, I don't think so.

For the very first time in mankind's history, the whole planet is involved, at least virtually. This is the world of the 21.st century, inhabited by men and women of the 21.st century.

What was I expecting to find, to discover, that might – just might – help me change this bad opinion I have of mankind's future, which has been haunting me for the last few decades? Hard to say. All theatrical poses aside, excessive naïveté and credulity turn easily into imbecility. This seems to have been my motto for a long time now. I guess I've always wanted to believe because I know in the end I'm always sceptical. The truth is, however, I do not believe.

My intention of having a blog, though it was set off by personal, intimate reasons, has never had anything to do with wanting to watch myself in a public mirror. This is a reason that wouldn't have ever attracted me to bloggers' community. Keeping a diary is an interesting, useful activity I carried out myself for some time (years, as a matter of fact) in the privacy of my notebooks. For my eyes only. Others may have other concepts of what a diary should be, that goes without saying. I don't argue that either.

I had thought of my blog more as a place for the sharing of ideas, convictions, knowledge, wisdom, wit, sorrow, happiness, sadness, help, understanding, compassion, respect, questions, answers, quests, discoveries, findings, you name it. I'm still thinking the same of it. Too high an expectation? Don't think so either.

Whether I'm disappointed? I think I am. That I was expecting everyone would be somehow better human beings only because I was meeting them on the net? I am naïf indeed, quite often, but I'm definitely not an idiot. Exceptions to this shadowy scenery? A few, of course, rather good ones indeed, but much fewer than I was willing to admit. To my disenchantment.

Right this minute I'm having difficulties in putting in words what goes through my mind and heart, since these words aren't mine. I'm somehow borrowing them. But that's only a part of the problem, which I can cope with without blaming myself for it. I've made that choice myself quite consciously. I don't regret it at all.

You get an email, and you feel more or less uncomfortable until you've answered it. Someone out there is waiting, and you're not supposed to leave people waiting. Once answered, you feel you've done your job. And you feel well again.
You send an email and… Let's not get into poor, sad details. It's just not worth it.

It's time for me to set things right, I think. On my favourites' list there are links that will cease to exist. Being polite doesn't pay most of the time nowadays. This is a lesson I've been taught by life many times, over and over again. But I guess I never learn… Am I stupid or what? One tries to be friendly several times in a row, and what does he get in return? Olympic disregard. Yes, that's human too, I know. «L'esprit du temps» is how the French call it; the Germans call it «Zeitgeist». What I call it doesn't really matter now.

So I'm settling for the happy few. These know they're not concerned by this outburst of dismay. I believe they know now, too, I am like that: like a sleeping volcano that suddenly bursts into a huge eruption that calms down soon after.

Many thanks to all of you whom I know I have great reasons to be grateful to!