Card pulled: Illusion. You know... I try really hard to shuffle all the cards a bunch so that I don't keep getting the same cards over and over... but sometimes the same ones keep popping up. I've tried putting the cards back and trying again but if there's a message that needs to be heard, it will be, regardless of how many times I try and "trick" the deck.
So, this card is illusion. In a strange turn of events, I just got finished binge watching this show called Gossip Girl. I always loved the books, but I didn't like how much they changed about the TV show. Well, since I'm at home a lot because I'm my dad's caregiver so I have a lot of time to myself, I'm always finding stuff to work on and I decided that I'd finally give it another chance. After I got past all of the changes they had made to the characters, I got to enjoy it for what it was... mindless entertainment. But then it got me thinking.
When I was growing up, I was always the one on the outside. I was always looked down on for something... not having the "right" clothes, or enough money, or making myself look "cute enough" for the boys to like me. In fact, I very rarely ever got crushes on guys and I think the only reason why I did was because I enjoyed the social aspect of having something in common with other girls. I knew I was straight from an early age, but I just didn't find anyone in particular that I cared enough about to merit having to like. It just seemed like a lot of work.
In the GG world, there were 2 kinds of people: the ones who were born into money and got all of the opportunities and all of the power that came with that including people; and those who were were willing to sell themselves to the Devil to be a part of that world. In the show, GG turned out to be one of the ones in the 2nd category; someone who wasn't born into the world but fell in love with someone who was. Regardless, he still chose to expose everyone's secrets in order to be taken seriously as a writer. ["So casually cruel in the name of being honest." ~Taylor Swift.] When I was in school and being mercilously teased and harassed every single day, I was always writing things down about the world around me. My journals were always my place to go and trash the world. But if given the chance to do everything all over again, the one question remains: if I had the opportunity, would I put everything on the internet for the entire world to see?
Probably not. If cyberbullying were around back when I was a kid, I would have been able to see all of the terrible things people were saying about me. At least when it was told in gossipy secret or written down in hand-passed notes, even though I knew people were saying stuff about me, I never knew what it was. Sometimes people would tell me things they heard about me but it was just stupid nonsense. If there were pictures and texts involved, my life would have been so much more tortured. Not to mention... later on in my life, when I DID find the courage to write my feelings online, someone would always find it and I'd somehow get in trouble for saying how I felt.
I'd often fantasized about how things could have been different if I had been smarter about hiding all of my secret thoughts... if I had kept my "real" journals in a box in the corner of my closet so when my friends came over and read my journals right in front of me they'd only get half the story, what would I have said if I wasn't so censored? But... I'm pretty sure it would have been wildly depressing. It's bad enough to have remembered some of this stuff just in my mind's eye, to see it on paper would be even worse.
So, my answer is no. I don't want power over anyone else. I don't want to judge people for their lives and pretend like I'm friends with someone to gather information to write about it later. That to me is cruel; people are going to do what they're going to do and say what they're going to say and we all have moments we're not too proud of. Even though it feels like "justice has been served," it really hasn't. And who am I to judge? I'm just trying to get through my own life.