The problem is not your care, your love, your desire. The issue is seeing yourself be fade away bit by bit when you realise, they don’t feel the same. You begin to see through veiled eyes, allowing yourself to be played to their every whim, not because it’s logical; far from it, but simply because you start to lose control. Your instinct to protect yourself is replaced with an instinct to protect them. They become like a drug and you an addict, dependent on a regular fix. Attempts to push them away are in vain because in the end you just keep coming back for more. Someone once said desire was in the heart, if that is true why does the body ache all over when you realise the way you feel isn’t and never will be mirrored? Why do tears form in your eyes and your brain feel as if it is ready to explode if love is only in the heart? And who do you tell when they’re the only one you trust in the world, when they’re the one that knows the most about you but are missing that one massive secret you hesitate with because you already know the answer. So, you bury it, deep down in your consciousness where you pray no one will notice. And allow yourself to enjoy the highs, the happiness and laughter but eventually the realisation must come that the eventual low will be truly devastating. That truth begins to lessen the highs and deepen the lows to the point where there becomes no difference. Being with them is no longer a highlight; it simply is and becomes all it ever will be. The perpetual cycle continues, not because you want it to but because dependence on a drug persists regardless of the harm it causes. In the end you become a mere shell, stripped of emotion by the experience of a connection that only you felt. The worst thing is though comes when the realisation comes that you did this to yourself, the moment you first laid eyes upon them
The way she laughs, and each movement, an analogy of poise. If perfection had ever to take human form, the embodiment would be her. Straightforward, yet somehow more interesting than even the most reclusive of individuals. With the depth of personality to be a shoulder to rest on, even as she aches in silence. If the eyes are the windows to the soul and all I see is happiness within them, what does that say of hers? Even the flaws of character measure with the ‘so-called’ strengths of so many others. As distinctly biased as this account may be, a balance of improbable proportions seems to have been fashioned. The combination of a multifaceted persona and effortless appearance that reaches far beyond the realms of comparison. She is, in truth, far more than many should even dare to wish for in their lifetimes. Happiness, in its purest form is the only emotion within my often-addled mind when thoughts of her stray through my consciousness.
All barriers dropped, the walls we build with such care to shield ourselves from the inevitable pain of attachment. Control surrendered, the brain runs wild within waves of euphoria, only have reality crush that moment of naïve hope. There is nowhere but into the deepest recesses of the mind to flee, with all else now exposed, by a moment of blind faith. The wounds which bring the most pain, are the ones which we don’t allow others to see. We choose to believe that there is a weakness in sharing, with burdening another with the pain, so we harbour it, careful to live to the status quo. Sadness forces us to cry until there are no tears left, and then anger makes us bleed until the world runs red. Only when emotion is departed is the full extent of the pain realised. In this state of weakness, the true fragility of the human mind, the soul, and the body is laid bare. Spirit crushed, purpose all but extinguished, what is an existence if heartbreak and angst seem to fill every waking moment.
“When we live for the pleasure of a dream, being something that allows us to feel truly alive, that is how we know that the waking moments have become worthless”
Symptomatic of the human condition is our propensity to, without fail assume the worst of all possible outcomes within a circumstance. Conditioned as we are, from an early age to always assume the worst in those we don’t know. Trained to live in fear and to either hate the unknown, or act in a manner altogether oblivious to it. For we live in a time where humanity’s innocence has long since been tattered, left in a heap and long since forgotten. Enlightened self-interest and an obscene level of ignorance further taints the already flawed assembly that is humanity. Our own egos have inflated, and as such truth has ascertained a status as a manipulable concept. The frightening trend is towards a society of recluse, wherein trust has become a scarcity beyond measure. Humanity’s self-destruction to be borne of suspicion, of mistrust, a quality which we have instilled within our society through the degree of our own self-preservation.
Acting without the expectation of reciprocation, or the knowledge that it could never exist, therein lies the root of true humility and the source of the immaterial happiness which we all chase. Acting as the catalyst for the enactment of another’s happiness, regardless of if such an act is conditioned by a measure self-sacrifice or not. That is the moment in which I have come to believe true satisfaction can be attained. Not through the constant sating of a boundless ego through the hollow words to which we attest the constancy of our daily existence. The ability to provide hope to those who are devoid of it, or be the outlet for the burdens of another’s mind, the simplest acts which we think nothing of are often those that have the most endearing of impacts. Happiness can never truly reside in the ninth figure of a balance statement, or the instance of self-worth we envisage when comparing ourselves to another. Nor could it lie in following the conventions of a society which is predicated upon a valuation of greed. Fulfillment, in retrospect, is a reflection upon our own ability to positively affect the lives of not only those we value, but to those whom helping reaps no benefits to ourselves.
For those that do not fit anywhere
Never place enough faith in someone to allow them to let down you them. Because eventually, everyone does.
The vain compare themselves to others, the intelligent compare themselves to who they were and who they hope to become.
The lines between supposedly polar opposites are so often blurred in our lives. Trusting so easily is interpreted as naïveté or a sign of a person who is easily manipulated. Intelligence quickly shifts to arrogance and loyalty is perceived as over-attachment and obsession. Yet we are questioned for uptight natures and a lack of willingness to share who we truly are with others. How do you be a good person in a society wherein the perception of right and wrong is always so easy to fuck up?
Any kind of human interaction presides on the mutual involvement of all involved parties. Because without a balance, there is no love, no friendship, or care. Without knowing that when you take a shot in the dark someone will be there to catch you should you fall; the existence of an attachment can only ever be fleeting.
Innocence is bliss as ignorance is deadly, the former is extremely rare, and the latter seems to be ever-present.
Sometimes shouting at an empty room is the only way to be heard.
Trust has become sacred as deceit has become commonplace, we are no longer searching for something to believe in, just something that proves it to be false.
The mind which does not account for all the outcomes, is the one that is always surprised by an ill-considered thought becomes a reckless act, or thoughtless word and signals an all-consuming cycle of regret which occupies all waking moments.
Imperfect people seeking perfection in an imperfect world that is somehow just right
Things change, that doesn’t mean they get better
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