I Would Die For You

But I wouldn't live for you.

Before you start screaming at me, no, I do not like tattoos. 

That's the quote I saw, and found pretty amazing, in The Perks Of Being A Wallflower.

It's been some time since I've read anything like this -- simultaneously light and heavy, very youthful and yet old, about friends, about love, about all those crazy stuff that we all do when our age defies us.

One of the little reliefs these days. :)

Granted, I do not approve of many of the crazy things they did -- pot, smoke, sex, abortions and all those. It's a little too crazy, and potentially disrupting with permanent side effects. Plus, there's Charlie trying to participate by trying all those forbidden apples. Are you really not participating if you're not smoking, doing pot or having sex?

Of course, I do not approve. There are far better ways to participate in life, Charlie.

However, the underlying theme of not participating in life-- being a wallflower, is worth pondering on. There are so many themes in the book worth looking over, and I vow to read the book at least twice someday in the future. *snorts* Make that a really far future.

Being a listener isn't really one of my strong points. I like to talk. Chattering, singing, mumbling, grumbling, nagging, scolding, laughing, giggling, chirping --  all these I can do; in fact, i'm pretty sure I'm good at it. Harping on and on in this blog should be enough to convince you of that.

I'm pretty sure you don't need FIVE people to talk that much. You just need ME.  :x

But listening. Really really listening. Like Charlie do. Put aside the fact that he's a wallflower, he's a really great listener. He really does understands, and he really does listen, and I guess that makes a really really desirable friend. He never really thinks about what he wants first; he's always trying to understand all the motives and feelings and reasoning lying beneath the epithelial layer. He's always observing (sounds creepy, I know, but still).

One of his more finer points.

And living. Dying for someone is --really-- not really that big a deal, once you think of it. It's usually just a split second decision -- to jump in front of a moving train to push someone aside, to shield a baby with your body against falling debris. Almost instinctual, if I might say.

But to live for someone. That's... That's really something. And I guess a lot of us, whether we know it or not, live for someone or the other. I know I do. I know I shouldn't too, but I can't help it. Sometimes you even lose yourself if you're not careful. To live for someone. To alter your paths, set your sights, your future, your decisions, all because of you want to please someone.... That's something real serious.

I mean, sure, you might change your routine a little just to see that person smile, try things that person like just to see how it feels. Friends, families, lovers. Whoever it might be. But it is these small things that eventually changes who you are, and forms a new you. Sometimes, it turns out alright-- your lucky stars shine and you turn out successful... But what if it doesn't?

My lucky star shone. I grew a liking for bitter things. Or is it me who's getting bitter?

Is it truly right to live for them and lose sight of your own life?

Perhaps I'm simply thinking too much. Perhaps living for someone is part of life and the realisation of it. Perhaps living for someone is living for yourself, sometimes.

Perhaps you can't really live for yourself unless you're living for someone. Perhaps you need both to truly live.