When what is needed is for you to not be what made you what who you are.

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Identity.

Is there anything more consuming of our time, painful in our search of, or malevolently stolen from us by those who would prey upon us than the complete an utter singularity of being that is our very reason to be.

Who are we.

It is a melancholy cloud for some… a bitter fugue state of suffocation for others, Yet for a precious few it is an effervescent rambling of wanderlust to enjoy.

Then.. for many of the rest, it is an anchor of truth, affixing us to a spot we will never move from. Others it is a brand,  be it freshly scoured into the flesh, or a old and familiar scar, but its mark will never fade.

But the precious few….. to whom the knowing of oneself is a boon and sorrow all at once, for they see then the torrent of all about them.. and will learn that no matter what, they cannot change even for a moment what those around them know.. or don’t know about who they are… for they will never be ready to see anything and will choose to see nothing, but what they need to see in the moment to be that they are ready to be.

Because of this.

Love will bring sorrow.

Devotion will deliver Misery.

Sacrifice invites heartbreak.

Forgiveness is rewarded with Spite.

 

It isn’t that a person, even one in pain, does not want to know who they are, its just they rather do anything in this world, than have someone see  before they have a chance to see it and decide if they can stand what they have come to see, or worse who they have come to be.

 

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To have Been Broken.

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I have had much to say, to so many, on the matter of what I have been, when I was another Me. 
It seems so strange a thing, to speak in earnest words of how I am not that which I once was, and have them look at me the same. I find, in these moments, a palor of fear and doubt washes over me. 
I want to scream ” Cant you see what I am saying!” Take them and shake them, for how can they not know how profound a truth I speak..? Cant they understand.. what I have been through…?
They do not.
I , I must then accept that those who hear nothing of what I have said.. No matter Its eloquence.. It soul shaking honesty… For they have been blessed by the ignorance unstolen by suffering and loss.
I calm… and sigh… and speak anew.. They may never know.
For they themselves can only hear me iF they have first
Been Broken. 

The Truth that starts with you has to still be the truth nonetheless.

The battle for self righteousness has cost so many of us more than we care to admit. Those times where we stand defiantly on some principle to which some, or all, of the construct of our Psyche is leveraged upon and so we can’t relent for a moment one the force of our argument, yield even an ounce of the weight of our stance.

It can be said, however, that such adamant determination, is merely our frailty of being hidden behind the tremendous power of fear and doubt. To be sure though, such things are not just markers of the lesser measures of the human condition, but at times, cruelly earned brands of what pain and suffering we may have known.

There are times though when we will be moved, to not be moved, by something that should be common, but life makes all to rare for us to see, benefit from, and be certain of in any way that everyone who will see it will know.

The truth.

It is seldom a comfort to have it at our side, and can alienate the world around us as often as it rallies others to our cause. But it will, in that fight to make clear that which we believe, that which we are, make strong the ground we stand on for both, and nothing will harden it more so.

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When Fear is all about you.

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Fear is part of being alive, some measure of it is factored in to nearly every aspect of our daily lives. It takes a myriad of forms. From the ambiguous, such as a random lighting strike(been there, done that), to the benign, (slipping and falling and breaking something… yep.. been there, done that too) To the dubiously required.(life, home, auto, flood, dental insurance). We live our lives in some way, evermore in its presence.

While some of us through life’s conditioning, or careful nurturing, or even genetic uniqueness, do not experience fear in the common fashion. They are the outliers, they typically come in two forms, though with the incredible diversity of division they may vary well beyond my simple characterizations, for the purpose of generalization I shall heap them in two groups.

For some.. Fear, is the great adventure that awaits them, or the looming challenge that will validate them. They are the trap waiting to be sprung; a fury begging to be unleashed. For these individuals.. Fear is the opportunity for hate, and rage and the satisfaction of redemption and validation that can be found.. in an instant unexpected.

For others… fear is the great unknown, and that is a terror that slithers its way into every thought and action. The darkness is a place of paralyzing terror, the light a place where everyone can see a flaw and failure in every pore. To do anything brings the terrible shadow of certain failure. To do nothing is to wait to be mocked and condemned.

Fear.. In either case , in every case, is nothing… but what we make it. It is no more a thought than as any other, it serves no one to any great reward, but does lead to the suffering of nearly all whom it becomes more that a mere thought to be considered.

See, When Fear is all about you, you have to realize, you cannot be All about fear.

Cause in the end Fear is really nothing, and you should never think that you should be to.

Don Quixote, a Lemming, and a idiot, all walk towards a Clift..

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Selfishness is perhaps the most common traits to being human, of the human condition. It has the capacity to take so many different variations in demonstrations of its existence. It can be petty, an overlord to jealousy, or just as a servant to insecurity, or even a brawling enforcer of fear.

It in its many manifestation, does not solely define the individual, because pain, sorry and loss wield it, for better or worse, to their own ends,

Selflessness, this altruistic grab bag of actions,  that we may parttake in, is often what happens to the selfishness in us when we wake up, along with our conscience, on the other side of the bed.

We find that selfishness can be assuage by serving another, and not making another suffer it. Our intentions we will polish up with the Shine of charity, humbleness, even when enough are watching, a noble sheen.

It could be said, that it is the road less taken, on the great journey to where the end justifies the means. That gentle place where there is no fear, our insecurities may never find us, a place of plenty were we need not covet another’ and there are no windmills that me may joust to show, we are worth something to this world.

But for some, Selfishness, and Selflessness take us right to the same place of were we are just steps a way from a step too far, having not realized how perilous a journey we were upon, how many we were leading down our path or whom we were chasing desperately in our flight, failing to see where either was really taking us.

Sooner of later we will follow or lead someone else right over the edge of a cliff that we saw coming, and whether we see ourselves noble or frightened, it won’t change the damage done, after the fall.

Sometimes, Neither Selfishness, or Selflessness, helps us at all, sometimes, its just, being sure, your being yourself.

Learning to cope, written Febuary 22, 2009. (Excerpt from 10,000 Sleepless Nights.)

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Learning to cope…

 

Memory has its own identity, and we struggle each time we learn this anew.

         We can recall the nature of our own life in the countless reminiscence of all we have known.

Yet there are times when so powerful are the events that alter every course of our being, that in a single stroke of fate’s merciless pen are every memory redefined.

 

All we may recall is recast, every binding emotion torn asunder, and at once, who we were in our memories is no longer us at all.

 

Memories of Love become regret, devotion becomes purposeless toil, kindness is now is mocking placation.

 

We remember being part of something;

no we only realize we were just simply there, as we are now.

 

Alone.

Remembering Why we wanted to Forget.

I can say when I write here, or anywhere, two absolutes are woven onto every word. I write with absolute sincerity of belief that what I say is real to me, and that I give it freely to whoever may read it. My motto
“You can forget me, Just remember what I have said.” If ever this was true, it was when I wrote this.

What Say you

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Each one of us would like to think of ourselves fearless at some point, of something, in the course of lives. It could be something so utterly trivial, like losing to some novice in a game which me have mastered, or a matter of unquestioned certitude, such as the defense of ones child when grave peril shows its face.

These moments, if they have already come upon us, are often indelibly burned into a memory. A fixed point to forever reference so that we might, draw strength from, polish the shelf of it for the sake of nostalgic pride, or to remind us of what we are capable of when we face some great threat.

Then of course, there is the other side of this Boatman’s coin, one of which we will somberly collect through our days. That being those times, and those things in which we knew certain and palpable fear which forever changed our lives and we…

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