About being wrong

You don’t want to go out because you’re antisocial. You’re out all day because you’re a punk. You work all day because you have no life. You don’t like work because you’re lazy. You don’t have a boyfriend because you’re shy. You have a boyfriend because you’re a @#$!#$…

Apparently, those who say those things are right. And because they are right, if you do otherwise, you are wrong.

Those are nice ways to shatter a person, ‘for his own good’. You know better, and he is wrong. How do you know better? Well, obviously, you know better because you are right.

That sounds silly alright, but how many believe that, and what do they do to themselves while they believe that? How many believe there is something wrong with them, that they are stupid, crazy, this that because somebody has pounded it too many times –often in too ‘nice’ ways?

How many do something because they think that to do nothing is wrong, and how many do nothing as they feel that anything they do is wrong? And then as they feel so confused and unable and bad, and somebody -probably the one who has been pounding such stuff to them- comes along and points out to them -with ‘caring’- that they have a problem with their mind. That’s some nice projecting yourself onto another there, mate.

What’s wrong? To make wrong is wrong. That by itself creates the concept(s) of being wrong.

Who is entitled to tell another how he ought to be like? How? Why? Who is the right guy?

For some, no matter what somebody does, he is wrong. And nobody who’s not at odds with himself would act like that.

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