There is something funny about helplessness; it liberates me of action but jeers my daily numbness right back at me.
They tell me to detach…to “let go”. But letting go becomes harder when I see the pathetic ridiculousness of my own ability, the resounding rounding error of my existence.
How dare something be so out of my control?
This is probably why it hurts so much to watch…to anticipate pain but never experience the satisfaction of pain itself.
Is it then selfish to be suffocated with helplessness?
Maybe. But what would I know?