I have
particular
wars
so devastating,
intimately, so challenging to have adored by loss or won more her rain. You gaze
at me
it
must be in error, this place you designate for me.
Protected.
Well
informed. While everything has become gray.
The tyranny
reigns in silence while one is so intent where such bold daringness is its
marvel; to imagine by wealth or to care less where one is freedom or tolerance
or expenses or kids; this space we enter, reminded about obligations, or so intimate
these whelming days; at sheer debate this internal clock while we wage wars
over axioms; so plainly stated, or it becomes by ritual, while some imagine the
world is heavily sick.
I
get in moods where I notice my inconsistencies while I plead perfections; to know a person to
understand a person while cold enough to ask something we can’t perform.
It
becomes interior operations to never quite add up while looking at where life
is sending us; this opened desert or those oasis moments where I return to this
disarray; to possess instability to wrestle a friend or to live such a way
where misery is cousin.
They
ask questions. This therapeutic project. So much depends up our answers. But here
we go: Are you able to enjoy things? What do you do when depressed? You should
walk or exercise or call a friend? Do you have any friends? What happened to
such and such?
A
person feels aware, or needs to point out the gray, while we assume certain
realities: I enjoy one or two things; “but those things are isolated”;
never-you-mind-that, they bring me joy. When depressed, I read, I write, I submerge
myself in something meditative: “I don’t hear you saying much about other
people”; That is gray. Something sticks with me. I believe we have
a naïve way of approaching others. “That
sounds like isolation. Try to make more friends.”
There is a chasm. It’s
not quite apparent. But interior philosophy takes the lead. We are oriented. It
is evident in this—some people will accept it, while other people go mad about
it. Or our definitions: for one, friendship means acceptance, for another,
friendship means to meet me where I am at.
Everything is an
issue. Not too many answers get away. Plus, there is this need for consistency.
I sound gloomy. A man
watching humanity for years. While some behaviors are indicative and universal.
