[Redbook1:91][19691101:1830]{Friendship}[1st
November 1969]
Saturday 1st November
6.30 p.m.
I can never
find with any man or woman, boy or girl, true friendship. What is friendship, anyway? Happiness?
Security? Identity with another,
perhaps? Sometimes one sees people of
whom one thinks: if only I had total identity with that person; if only
I knew him/her fully, and he(/she) knew me fully. But always before one gets to that stage one
finds they do not live up to one's expectations. Is it because one projects one's own image of
what one hopes for into the empty shell of their image before one knows
them, and it is replaced by a reality which cannot live up to it? Or does one run foul of the shell of their
own image of themselves, raised to acquaintances?
Oh for
universal ESP....
[PostedBlogger08112012]
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