No respite

 

“It’s harder to heal than it is to kill.”
― Tamora Pierce

 

“She comprehended the perversity of life, that in the struggle lies the joy.”

Catharsis?

“Writing is a form of therapy; sometimes I wonder how all those who do not write, compose, or paint can manage to escape the madness, melancholia, the panic and fear which is inherent in a human situation.”

 

— Graham Greene, Ways Of Escape

Look and see

I go back

The Death of Me

Are you not afraid of what you are doing and all that you say to hurt those around you? Is dying your biggest fear? Is the thought of not living or breathing terrifying?

What fate could be worse than never being able to speak or talk or be with
your family, friends, strangers, or any worldly being?

I know of no one who says they are ready to die now, today or even a year from now. Who wants to find out what happens in the Beyond. Do any of the religions tell us that we are immortal? There are re-incarnations but our mortality is a reality that we can’t deny, no matter what. An accident you are a part of, or news of a fatal diagnosis of a colleague/family or even of celebrities gives us chills. It’s so very astounding that  we all know and accept that we will not be around forever but none of us bother about it. We know we are nearing our demise every second, but we seem indifferent to the inevitable.

We know exactly what we are capable of, the callousness, the pain we inflict. The horrors we are for so many.

I know what I did and what I said. To my own offspring, to my ex, to my bff that’s not anymore, to the past and to the future.. I know I broke my own heart, not just yours.

Who can heal the blister that is scratched at again and again. By your parents, your neighbor, your new colleagues. What pleasure do any of us get from tearing another apart? From reminding them of a yesterday they are not in any more – one they have left behind, or are attempting to, day after day.

That is the tragedy of our race. Sadism. We all partake in it. And scoff at those who say otherwise. “I am very considerate of people.” Consideration involves considering. Who stops to think before they blurt? Listen or observe a slight cringe, the flicker of panic in the eyes of the one you are pushing for an answer to your blunt queries. You all notice, you choose to still prod and poke and dig your way around. Move blindly on to listen to what they reveal and what they don’t. Make up your own version of exaggerated horror shows, apocalyptic and devastating. You and I both.

The worst of all humanity is inside us. We are equipped with the ability to choose. What choices do we make? To brazenly ask all that we feel privy to. Marriage, romance, divorce, childlessness, adoption, unemployment. Our curiosity knows no bounds, we are insatiable in our appetite for agony.

Learn to stop or take pause. Go back. To yourself. Who were you an hour ago or 5 years past? Are you the same or have you grown? Do you have the luxury to wait for a moment more? A day? You know it’s inevitable. Your cremation, funeral, final rites. They stare at us in the face, as our hearts pound at each hurriedly braked stop on the road, a tripping in the shower. People collapse in the middle of a meal or a joke, never to eat or laugh or breathe again.

So what or who are you waiting for? No one can save you or change you except you.

Be a better you.