POEME: It's About Me, Really

It's About Me, Really

I let you,
and pretty much everybody
that comes to me,
take advantage of me.

Often,
I know that I am being taken advantage of. 
Sometimes,
I do not,
for I never earnestly built the apparatus
needed to second-guess. 
I have been deluding myself
in the 'wrong' direction.

I have often felt bad,
at being THIS stupid.

But, really,
it is not stupidity. 
It is a life strategy. 
I am less invested in myself, as an island owned by me;
more a commons,
on which I am myself
only as welcome as the next man.

No wonder,
I am a living, breathing example of
The Tragedy of Commons.

Yet,
I continue to be passionately invested in this,
less than 'useful' strategy. 
Why?

Perhaps,
because I care less
about comforts and conveniences and status and toys. 
And more about my feelings. 
More about my emotional being,
than the social,
or financial being that I am.

The real being,
I feel,
is the one that feels.

It's about me,
really. 
I want more
to feel good,
than be seen good,
or worse,
be seen as owning good,
or goods.

It's not about the economic me,
or the social me. 
It's about the real me, really.

Thus,
those that care about me,
and those that do not,
are all welcome to use me.  I just hope,
against the reality known well to me,
that I will not be misused or abused. 
Or, perhaps, not much.

So,
feel free,
as you always have had, to use me the way you see fit. 
For it is not about you, at all. 
It is about me, really.

And my reality,
as I have always chosen it to be,
is that I was,
am
and wish to remain,
a giver:
a giver that does not merely give of himself,
but himself. 
And that reality
is far more valuable to me,
than working towards and becoming,
say, a trillionaire.

You may find it stupid of me. 
But then,
it's about me, really.

-

(c) owais. Creative Commons Attribution licence (reuse allowed).