And yet, here I am!

I've always believed that while you don't have to be incredibly nice to everyone that it is of no use to be incredibly mean and that the meanness does more harm to the person doing the expressing as opposed to the person receiving those expressions. Anger is such a 'decombustion', and I just don't understand the 'control' it appears to give people (albeit temporarily). A Buddhist monk once responded to a question about anger towards the Khmer Rouge. His response was one of not being angry, as the anger hurt him more than it hurt the Khmer Rouge. He instead said he felt sorrow.

Think Twice

Cleaning up. Going through. Finding odds and ends, and finally understanding.

Find One:

I didn't know. I really didn't know. What I had wrought through this inability to be alone. To be with someone. The need not to be left out. Where did that come from?

Why did it take me so many years to learn comfort with myself? Why didn't I notice that my wanting to be 'with' destroyed wanting to be 'with'. Clueless to the Nth degree.

Staying put.

I really am not good outside of my own environment. Out amongst the world I expect people to behave with some semblance of the 'us' instead of the 'me'.

Having pushed myself into the glass, the wall, the door, 'excuse me' is uttered to move even further. The other option, going around, taking a different route, is not an option as it affects the 'me'. 'Me' is inconvenienced. 'Me' cannot be inconvenienced.

Looking at the meagerly numbered posts of this blog there's an obvious feeling of separation, of distance, of aggravation and frustration. I used to believe in the world. I used to believe in living by example. Give me time, maybe I will again.

Impossible to understand.

So, what DO you do? I still doubt my words. Thoughts are jumbled. The ideas, the thoughts, are there but impossible to get out. To express. To make sense. All these thoughts with no place to go. All this knowledge. It comes out in nonsensical spurts, meaning nothing and meaning everything, but impossible to understand.

Another day, another dollar.

Well, it's a new day but much of the same. No real newness but I approach this day as if it were my first and my last. Much the same thing, if you give it some thought. The eagerness we give to those things new and the eagerness we give to those things past, appreciating the significance of what has happened, finding joy in the mundanity of life. Finding joy at all.

Oxymoronic life.

So, what do you do?

So, what do you do when you don't know to do anything else?

The past couple of days my mind has been a blur. The ability to think straight impossible. Words leave my mouth and my brain feels empty, disconnected from what I just said. Unable to find the importance of my own words. Doubting the importance of my own words. Doubting the worthiness of my own words. Doubting indeed.

I believe they call it survival of the fittest. Fittest was never really defined though, only implied.