atrasties

I have steadily thought to myself about the world at random for time immeasurable and have concluded I dont have a fucking idea about what the hell is my role. Should I care or not, should I be content with the stage of activity I go through. To know in one instant that the kind of person you are is at odds with itself purely by exsiting. These thoughts ravage me, they tear piece of skin away leaving a delicate collection of sinew and bone. I brush up against others in dark alleys exchanging simple equations on how to kill the mortal soul and never have I faced off with someone who reads the depths of their being; till now. And in that moment I stand awkward and vapid as if no thought had ever crossed my cortex other than those which simply keep me alive depending on whether people remind me to breathe or not. I have faced greater questions and wrestled with chaos and brought people to their knees with force of will. All this has availed me nothing, a sense of purpose?, not really; feelings of accomplishment? sometimes perhaps. How could I tell if the very act of living takes the entirety of my mental ability? No, there is no purpose that as yet tugs me towards a special place.

This is wrong; I have purpose and I know vaguely what makes me happy and what I do in the world. So what other thing? I know the answer to this too, the world no longer works for the romantically inclined, hopeless romantics are a lost and dying breed. I have the vast misfortune to still believe in love at first sight and in love itself, thereby making myself a target for the callous world at large. Do i give up this quest this need for love? No; it grows stronger with every fracture in my heart, with every joy turned to dust and trod under heel, I feel confidant that it will come and thus allow myself to be crushed yet again. There is an old saying that without pain and sorrow we would have nothing upon which to measure happiness; I feel that I have a good idea of the one and am sorely tempted to enjoy the other, if only it would show its face. There are depths I have travelled and distances crossed and again I know a pang, a yearning from which only pain shall come, lessons I have learned and still cannot help when beauty calls. Only now, in refining myself I have discovered that I have refined love or my images of lovely, of beauty and they are the stuff to shake the firmament of the heavens and rock time and space to its very core. These are the things which rip my heart, which reach gently into my very being and caress the deep places of the soul. I cannot resist and that is the divergence of the selves, occurring in two opposite dimensions, contained in the same space. I wish not to with every fibre of my being and still carelessly plunge towards it at the same time. Perhaps tomorrow, Ill know who wins, perhaps tomorrow therell be snow. Either way tomorrow always comes and Ill rise and greet it as always, with hope and wonder at where it may lead.

Now don't misunderstand, I am still content with the world and my place, such as it is, within it. I still am in a mood which can only be expressed as spontaneous joy. I dreamt lovely dreams and awoke with a light heart and a head full of ideas for today. I only wish to understand how it is that sometimes such little things like a few words strung together could hurt so solidly. I dont even think that was the intention or at least I hope not, I had surmised that it was an over reaction of my senses. That my veneer of rose on the world had momentarily slipped and I wasnt ready for it, that within my own perception was where it all lay. That having been said, I should say this as well; I will never, never lay down my heart and allow it to grow cool, I shall readily cradle it in my hand and offer it, warm and pulsing to those around me. The moment I place my heart deep within me, is that moment when love dies and the light of the moon will go out and never shine again for what good is a heart if not for sharing with the world. Now I must return to the day, it is full and rich and stretches ahead of me like a well travelled road, inviting and warm with sun dappled shade in which to rest along the way.