admire the one thing we aliens tend to take for granted.

Got space?

I feel like I've covered a similar topic before on this "not-so-thriving" blog of mine.

Well...this is more of an issue pertaining the need for privacy. Everyone needs privacy, whether it be a large amount of privacy or an enormously TINY amount. (Yeah, I confused you with that statement.)

I think I'm more of the person who needs a huge amount of this magnificent thing called "privacy."

So, it bothers me immensely when I have to encounter the same badgering into my personal life on a daily basis by people who have absolutely no sense of the word "privacy."

It's a beautiful word.

P-R-I-V-A-C-Y

Oh. Just wonderful.

If you're the type of person that prefers to be the instigator of such negative acts, I pray that you will find some sense in, what seems to be, a horrifically small brain that God unfortunately blessed you with.

I pray that one day you will realize that people prefer to keep to themselves.

Yes, they may say that they want help. But, really, they don't. They may say that they need "advice," but, in all honesty, they are just lying.

Why do they lie, you might ask.

They want you to feel included and important. They want you to feel a sense of pride and dignity knowing that someone claims to be in dire need of your specific help. They want to see you convey at least a minimum amount of happiness.

Why do they care about your happiness? I honestly do not know.

I should know, though. When I'm feeling sad, bipolar, or any other exaggerated emotion adolescents seem to face because of uncontrollable hormones, people feel the need to involve themselves in my misery.

They ask questions like, "What's wrong?" "Are you okay?" "Are you going to cry?"

I don't want to tell you what's wrong. No, I am not okay. Yes, I'm going to cry now simply because you asked me if I'm going to cry.

While I'm sharing my deepest and highly emotional feelings, while I'm being comforted in the arms of some person that claims to be helpful, and while I'm shedding that dreadful tear, I contemplate whether I could have answered those three simple, yet invasive questions a tad bit differently.

Instead of answering, I could have said "Leave me alone." "Shut up." Or, I could have simply not responded. But no, I chose to take the hard way out, leaving me with explaining my "depression," trying to please everyone elses desire to "help" when I can barely help myself, and feeling more terrible than I did in the first place.

I feel as if people need some sort of self recognition. They help others so they can feel better about themselves. It's selfish. I mean if the point is to help others, why not do so with the kindness of your heart, not for self accomplishment.

I always emphasize the ignorance of people in this awful society, but this isn't ignorance, this is selfishness, and it probably should be classified as abuse.

Abuse? Yes, abuse.

They are abusing their rights. They are abusing the emotional turmoil certain people have to live with.

This abuse could be prevented if we just all gave ourselves the power to embrace the one thing that we aliens tend to take for granted.

PRIVACY.

Again, what a beautiful word.

Embrace it. Live it. Admire it.

Imagine, what would society be with it?