It’s not a lack of money, it’s not your job, it’s not them. It’s you
Confessions of a recovering narcassist:
Some observe from above, I choose to observe from below. Perhaps that makes me a demon, but really we are all the same.
“Boy, you seem lost” says the statutory, bright robed, and fat, monk.
“I’ve always been lost”, is the only offering I have in reply.
“Why, are you looking for something, my young friend?”
“Nothing I don't already have” I say, holding back a smile.
“Ah, you are truly lost then” He says, and shaking his large and misshapenly bald head he turns his shiny red-orange robe back towards the stone waterfall and returns to his silent prayer.
As I walk back through the wooden planks of the temple, I wonder, what it is I am truly searching for?
Validation, the success among all men.
Unconditional love, which I continually choose to shatter myself. And through the cracks I slip and fall. The darkness below answers like an old friend, it’s warm embrace is a solace in itself. A sanctuary, a place of rest, of recharge, an isolated temple which I alone can visit, be that dilapidated and full of ruin, it is a temple nonetheless.
There I forge new paths, I finish old tasks I had set aside for a darker day, and I learn new skills and talents to impress the townspeople with.
Some observe from above, I choose to observe from below. I’ve been above, there is no judgement there, it’s a peaceful place. But we all rot and wither away, happy or not, blissful or not, loving or not. But love is the exception, unconditional love, the power of love makes all of this futile, it removes desperation, it cleanses even the darkest corner of our mind. It is a healing light beyond any other. It knows not ego, or power, it knows only of two bluebirds dancing in the wind, it knows only of darkness and light, of two forms, two souls intertwined and hence a form greater then each could be alone. But loving a soldier who has forged his path through suffering is not an easy task, and for him to stay with love, when all he knows is war and pain, that is a task not suited for man.
Power, maybe that’s what I’m really after, the power to choose and influence the way of the world, the power to determine, predict and understand fate, the power to understand the past and predict the future, the power to make other’s love me. The power to withstand the tide, the power to hold the world in my hand.
