Here’s something I wrote on 28 November last year…turbulent times, those …

Today I was thinking of writing, writing about something that’s happened to me. But then I thought, no, what if a certain person reads it? He would die. It’s the problem of writing about true feelings. People will not always accept them. Isn’t that what happened to Mario Vargas Llosa when he published ‘La tía Julia y el escribidor’? Julia did not like that being published. People would not always accept the truth. So I started thinking more about the whole truth thing.

The truth, what’s real, is something people either like or not. It doesn’t even have to involve one to feel it. That’s why people feel sorry when there’s an international tragedy, Twin Towers, Asian Tsunami, you name it. Or why someone will cheer another in the case of good news, like getting into a university. It makes people proud that someone else achieved a dream and is now able to aim for another one.

Most truths make us feel something. But what about those that don’t? There are truths that make one feel Switzerland-neutral. So then I think, is it really neutrality? Maybe it’s indifference. You don’t care, it doesn’t touch you. It’s not funny enough or tragic enough or surprising enough.

Some people can always remain indifferent, like that. Then I was trying to think, on today, when have I felt as unresponsive as that? Thing is, I can’t think of any situations of that sort. Maybe it’s just I’m really expressive most of the time. Is there really anyone that can be told something, anything, and not feel anything? Maybe boredom. Maybe true indifference does not really exist. Just portraying indifference. But everyone has feelings. A truth is a trigger for feelings.

I guess I was in a ranty, thinky sort of mood. I just had to reflect on what truth is. A statement? A reality? Either way, I wonder if there are really, truly people who can be indifferent in their hearts and minds, or if that’s just what they show.