I like writing here because I have no idea if anyone sees it and I can assume no one does, which is some kind of strange small comfort... I get to come bury my abstract momentary thoughts and random poetry here, somewhere thats public but effectively hidden, like my own secret garden of emotional turbulence. If anyone I know ever happens upon this, I'd rather not know that you did.
I want to 'share' my feelings about this life, and as usual always keep it vaguely cathartic... i speak with a therapist regularly, who gets all the juicy details, but I sometimes like to choreograph a dance of phrases that allow my emotions to dance their way out of me and onto some arbitrary website that might one day be found by alien archaeologists as they algorithmically populate a database containing every combination of the English language ever assembled by an organic lifeform.
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In this very moment of writing this, I'm working through some new kinds of pain, contemplation, and intensities. Over the past few weeks I've had the opportunity to come face to face with my own instincts and programming at a depth I'd never conceptualized. Through navigating some new flavors of interpersonal turbulence I have become acutely aware of my own capacity for compassion; the specific kind of compassion that permeates the world around me in every bonded pair of hearts whose proclivity for sacrifice allows our species to continue existing on this verdant planet.
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It feels so special... so unique to my own story, even as it is one of the oldest understandings that sapient creatures can endure. What I've gone through is my own, though the experience itself is shared by our entire society whether or not we are aware of it. We all share this place. When there is a birth, a death, a marriage of souls, or a dissolution of spiritual bonds it echoes through the greater world in often subtle and indiscernible ways.
I have long believed that all meaning is imposed upon this reality by those with the capacity to create it... even if it feels like this experience is something so tangible that it would ripple out into existence with or without us. What I'm living through right now feels more ancient and perfect than something that little old me would be carrying in my tiny beautiful heart, but I trust and know that so many other hearts have carried this same struggle into the battle that we call one-day-at-a-time.
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I don't have any desire to ruminate at length on what might have been in some other timeline where things were just different enough to lead me down roads I don't even see on the map. The mind is built to wonder, though, and I sometimes find myself staring at the map of my life for hours wondering what other lives could have lived.
I know that I am not alone... and that I also must carry my own burden towards the horizon of what I might become. It is with this in mind that I serenade my own heart with a song of acceptance, hope, and always working hard to process my emotions into nutrients for the soil of the self I will one day embody.
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I love you from all the way over here, even if these words have grown stagnant and died in the abstracting entropy of time's tireless march towards forever.