i just realized..how committed i am to misery. i insist on its existence. I’ve gotten so used to pain that i don’t know how to live without it. i don’t feel safe without danger. i feel like it’s going to ambush me if i don’t keep an eye on it. peace is relative. it’s only the brief interval between the explosions of reality. reality must be tragic. that’s what I’ve memorized and etched into my heart. i’ve grown around that belief. it’s embedded in me so deeply that i don’t know..how to undo it without undoing me. Or perhaps by undoing myself from that belief, I’ll finally be freed from the shackles of fear?
Could it be..could it be possible that freedom is possible without being shot in the back, without traps awaiting me further down the path? can i really hope without reservation, love without condition?
my soul was injured from the first earthly moments, and this is my attempts at nursing my wounds. i’m not sure if i can restore my essence, i just want to assuage the pain.
creating reality is an arduous but noble task. i guess that’s life in a nutshell?