The older I get, the younger I feel. I realize more and more that in the vastness of time and history I am indeed very young, insignificantly young, and faced with the infinite knowledge that has passed through the minds of mankind I know very little and still have much to learn.
Some days this fills me with hope and determination, thinking of all the things I can still learn, all the marvels yet undiscovered. Other days it fills me with anxiety, questioning why I have to struggle to make nothing out of nothing. Dangling from one side to the other, constructing and deconstructing my own experience time and time again, like the rising and setting sun.
I keep going back and forth between jaded and naive; trying desperately to hold on to that childish belief that everyone is inherently good, that we're all just hurt little children who can be cured with kindness while the concrete walls around my heart grow thicker and taller and the barbed wire expands. I want to remain open, innocent and loving, but I also want to remain, to be whole and not broken.
I want to forgive but I want to learn from the experience. There is a sort of resistance, a rebellion, that forces me to crack my own walls and let whatever is outside leak in, whether it's healing tenderness or corrosive aggression. Whatever seeps in causes some sort of reaction and transformation, no matter how many times concerned loved ones tell me to "not let it affect" me.
I let it affect me, time and time again, I let it break me down or lift me up in pieces, and then I put myself back together somehow in a different way. Again, trying desperately to remain the same but changing and transforming with every little encounter. It's the blessing and curse of being sensitive, of being aware of every little detail, of experiencing the mundane as sublime. To love without dying knowing you will die without love. To take on every risk even if it will destroy you, and hiding out when the monsters are too scary, but only to catch your breath and come back out.
With every battle, the truth remains that it can be my last. Every day can be the last, eventually one day will be. Perhaps the anxiety of this day motivates both the courage and the fear, no matter how much I think in my head that I do not fear death.
This is the human condition.
9th march 2010
ReplyDeleteThings I Want To Scream To The World
Ever feel like there's something missing?
An empty space inside..
Like you've been robbed off something
That there's got to be more to life.. than just this?
How does knowing the truth that there is indeed more make me feel?
Well it gives me hope among all this pain and chaos
it gives me a dream for the future,
it gives my life meaning,
it gives me purpose for the time being,
it gives me an assurance that I will really,
truly and completely, be happy.
it gives me confidence that I will one day,
for sure.. reach the ultimate best version of myself and perfectly be..
the person I want to be.
it gives me a guarantee that I will soon, never, ever, have to say goodbye.
that I will build long lasting friendships.. that will last forever.
that we'll be able to journey through this vast world on an adventure to discover,
without ever growing tired,
without ever growing old.
that we'll be able to say: 'see you later'
even if it's a thousand years later.
that I will be able to skip the pain
of passing down to my children
all of my problems and suffering
because of my mistakes being engraved in them through the rest of their life.
that I know why we suffer
that I know why we die
and that one day.. Definitely..
it will all come to an end.
So why do we hate to say goodbye?
Why do we feel like dying,
if our lover should die?
Why is it so tragic, when people in our lives,
are taken away in death?
For eternity lives in our hearts..
Because we were meant.. to live forever.
Bethsadday Briñez Aguirre
My dreams are not unreal representations of something real, they are the same as and a part of, my real life.
This is not a description of heaven, this is a description of the future life of all humans soon to come, here on this beautiful earth.