There’s nothing in this world that is sure of itself. Our ideals revolve around consistency and eternity, but our truths are controlled by temporality. The evangical and the born-again can blow through it all like an ice skater on a frozen lake. God sharpens the blades and pushes them along like the guiding hand of a parent. But below their perfect world is an icy cold lake that waits to consume them at any moment. So where do I find solace? Where can I exist with satisfaction? In temporality. In accepting that all things will change and almost never when you’d expect. There is no such thing, I’ve learned, as a promise. I make promises only when able to fulfill them, but to most, promises are nothing more than a pain killer to reduce the affects of an affliction for a short period of time. My best suggestion, for myself anyways, is to surround myself with people. This way, when one or more leaves there’s still others to take their place. I would like to invest myself fully into so many people, but like that stray kitten you want to feed cream, they ‘re likely to dart into the alley when you show care or affection.
Being yourself is what you need, and the most dangerous thing, all at once. What’s the point of moving forward if you’re not enjoying anything? They say not to wear your heart on your sleave, and they, are bullshitters. If you can’t wear your heart on your sleeve you’re hanging around the wrong people. One ought to wear their heart on their sleeve and be nothing more than loved for it. Unfortunately, love is not all we need. I’m so afraid that I’m going to be left alone. When I was younger, around the fourth grade, my mother was my only. She took me to child care in the mornings and I threw fits. I recall vomiting my toast on the sidewalk one morning because I was so afraid of her leaving. I’ve considered that I used to have an oedipal complex, but it’s a less psychologically complex need than that. It wasn’t her. It wasn’t that I needed her specifically; she was just the one available to me at the time in my life. I used to swim in irrational fears of her death. When she left me I was convinced she was saying her final goodbye. I always lingered, said I love you so many times, asked for kisses; I was so scared. To be alone was the last thing I wanted. Though less naïve and more deeply understood, this fear still exists in me. I wonder if it’s a universal truth. Are we all walking around afraid of being alone? Are those of us who are alone, unhappy? Have they accepted that their fears have turned true, that their fates are sealed? I want someone to take me up on a cloud where everything’s just fine. When I love, I’m satisfied. I have my own purpose in this world for myself, I know, but I also have my purpose for others. I want to take them to a cloud where everything’s just fine.
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