No one can love, so honestly and truly, so earnestly and deeply, fearlessly and foolishly, as a child.

I know I wrongly, feel hard done by for your attention, sometimes. And next year.

When I was younger, I spent hours every day researching song lyrics. Not only because I wanted to sing along... also because I earnestly believed that every single song I listened to had a meaning. Not several possible meanings, not an implied meaning, not an interpretation, but one single solid and specific meaning, a no-nonsense factual paragraph that every song could be reduced to. I have given up on this ideal. Although I still find myself looking up lyrics of songs that make my heart pang, I no longer spend hours debating and analysing exactly what the song-writer meant. Even if I still fully believed it was true that a song-writer had one specific intention and meaning in mind when he wrote the song, interpreting laws and legislation has taught me that that meaning is impossible to extract. Somewhere deep within the layers and levels of my thinking and beliefs though, some small part of this ideology remains, and it seems that it rears itself in my social interactions.

 

I do not know if everyone is like me, if everyone wants there to be a specific meaning for every action, a reason for everything, a logical rational link. I do not even know why I still insist on looking for these things, when I know my own actions do not adhere to this logic. If my own actions do not adhere, and I want them to, then what of other people's actions, when they do not even attempt to function from a plateau of logic. I think I missed my calling, I should have pursued logic, not law. The two seem to be mutually exclusive.

 

My point follows. If I know my ideals, and have tried to give them up, then why am I constantly disappointed by people's actions when they do not adhere to the logical actions I had pre-mapped in my head? I know I like to be in control. I know some traces of my ideals remain. Are these the answers? I just seem to feel people's lacks more acutely than others, seem to be more sensitive to people's pitfalls, more expectant, more hurt, more disappointed. Over-sensitivity gets you nowhere, I have learnt this from observing people close to me. Being over sensitive merely leaves you vulnerable to the unwitting attack of the insensitive. And this world is populated by the insensitive, possibly because the over-sensitive do not survive. We perish.

 

I must conclude that I am not more open to attack, but more perceptive of it. I dance on the line between desiring ignorance and needing to know everything. Neither side is healthy, but I know which side can stop me feeling the way I do. I just can't let myself go there. They say you can't break the habit of a lifetime... I don't think that is true. But I do think you need to want to change it. And again I repeat, as it always echoes through my head, that I cannot choose ignorance. So I must be acutely aware of people's shortcomings. Having decided that this is inevitable, I am brought back to coming to terms with such shortcomings. And to forgive, I have always needed to understand. I do not believe that blind forgiveness, or blind faith, is true. Some might argue the complete opposite, but it is this belief that leaves me religion-less. Nobody who thinks like I do can believe in religion.

 

All I find are questions, and  I am still learning to embrace them. Please bear with me, I can accept I am learning. But other people preach forgiveness and tolerance to me, and do not see their own hypocrisy. I detest mine, and seek to correct it. And that is one more step than them.

 

"How darkly the dark hand met his end
He was withered and bony, exposed for a phoney
But we heed the last words that he penned
Haste to disgrace the traitor. Do not wait till later
I don't think that you've got to pretend
I see God in birds and Satan in long words
But I know what you need in a friend
So now when I leave you, I hope I won't see you"

Brand New - Sink

 

Love is selfish. Do not tell me a healthy love is not. I want him all for myself, shamelessly, and will not share him even with the sea. I wish to be his only passion, I dream fruitlessly that that could be enough.

 

I wait for him, but waiting is hard, No - Impossible. What tides my heart over is knowing that if he were to choose, he would choose the empty space next to me. But if he would not choose that space, my waiting is meaningless. Love is lonely.

 

I am impatient for him to return to me and ease the strain of waiting... I do not want to wait alone, nor be the only one who waits. Love is impatient, so am I.

 

In expecting perfection and meeting with something less, lies the problem.  But I am literally blind to his flaws, if he possesses any. He is not blind to mine. Love is judgmental.

 

Love is unkind to me, for it renders me so helpless to its call, so dependant on its symptoms. I have not ever suffered as I suffer from Love.

 

Love is mortal, but I own the philosophers stone.

 

Love is human, and sometimes, Love is not enough. Not enough to keep us from crying, not enough to keep us from dying. Not enough to insulate us, nor keep us safe, not always enough to heal wrongs completely. But it is enough for him to forgive me and forget how I have failed him.

 

Good intentions and a pure heart alone cannot keep this love above water. Apologies and long talks and back-tracking and regret will keep my Love strong where Love leaves me weak and dazed.

 

I fail - I misplace my words and his passion, my emotion overrides my logic and my Love hurts him. Not from lack of Love, but rather too much - from spinning out of control with selfishness, impatience and loneliness and creating a Lovewind of destruction. Love fails, and it destroys.

 

But I know, my love is perfect.

It is big enough to swallow it's weaknesses and still emerge glorious, divine, almighty. My Love is my God, I dance around him and dare not dwell on his imperfections for fear that he will break me for my lack of faith. To him I am true and I give everything I have. To him I surrender myself, it is him I believe in.

Perfection does not mean without imperfections, but the ability to rise above them unbroken.

This Love cannot be broken.

 

Something inside me tells me it is time to write - I know not what. Maybe if I keep fingers to keypad for long enough the reason will make itself clear to me?

 

I cultivated some understanding today. About pride. I can honestly say that after today I believe it is something in our genes, our blood. For I know my fierce self-pride is justified, but all the same I am aware that should it not be justified, I would feel proud nonetheless. This is my revelation for today. The question is whether it is a good trait, or a bad one? Or maybe the question is whether the previous question is viable?

 

I discovered too, the other day, that I learn through questions. It is not my choice to subscribe to any one philosophy completely, but rather dabble in many and open more questions for my ever hungry mind. Youth could not abide these questions, and with frustration searched for answers... I submit that this is a flaw which most of us experience, yet few of us overcome. It is in learning to embrace the questions that I have found peace, ironically. Not in finding the answers.

 

I have always believed, for some unknown reason, that everything in life meets its opposite, if opposite ends are both taken to extremes. That every extreme, in other words, becomes its opposite. It is something I have sometimes strived to understand, but is more of an inward knowing. So, could this inward knowledge have been there for the purpose of teaching me that any question, taken to its extreme, is an answer in itself? It sounds very far-fetched and abstract, and I do not quite understand it, but I definitely like this idea.

 

I live to teach others, for it is hard to take ones own wisdom and apply it. In teaching another, one often finds that that person turns around and teaches me my own lesson, but coming from another's mouth, I finally understand.

 

"Happiness....is more precious than wealth"

I wonder will they know, how we lived, when getting home safe every day is an accomplishment.

It is not easy, and not desirable, to be criticised. 

 

In essence, the trouble with believing that one's world is perfect comes in when other people's perceptions clash with one's own.

 

For me to truly believe, as I wish to believe, that the world which I externalise is the only one that exists, nobody should be able to challenge my beliefs, ideals and actions. And so the the problem arises: What to do when it does happen?

 

As I see it, two options exist:

Ignoring the challenge, walking away and believing anything inconsistent with my own reality to be false....

Or accepting that my reality needs alteration...

 

To muse on the latter, there are few people who I would alter my reality for - that is, alter to include their perceptions and beliefs. It is hard to do so, for letting in another parallel universe is to expand your own beyond your control. That is when things get scary. Immediately, when more than one answer exists to any one question, there is the risk of confusion. I think that I have a problem with expanding my world...

 

It is easy, to get upset when your expectations are not met. However, I have never decided whether the injustice lies in the expectation not being met, or in the original expectation. Meaning: was my expectation too high, and the behaviour only what was to be expected, or, was my expectation trite and the behaviour sub-standard? I don't know if an answer exists to this question: in my world, my expectations are average. In worlds I choose to encompass, I have yet to discover.

 

And so, I live as ever, to learn, and this is merely one more musing, one that I have chosen to pen.

 

Possibly, maybe, I'm too grateful to be angry at anyone...