Shattered Thoughts

There’s a lot to be said about that which is never spoken.

Those moments when souls have been stripped bare and dragged across acres of salt and all you can do is lower your head, take what could be considered too much of a sip of the drink and then just stare off into the distance.

And yet there’s that power, that magnitude of those unique people you meet along the way… those seemingly innocuous souls who turn out to be the prophet or the saint or the tempter or the torture that you never saw coming.

You are stuck in that introspective moment, locked in pain. You are forced into a straightjacket of the mind and then without cause or reason you notice the look;

not the look of judgement or resentment or trepidation.

It’s the look of recognition. It’s the face you see in the mirror because only that face could understand what you’ve been through.

It’s the look of sympathetic resonance.

It’s the look of the harmony between balance and chaos that shapes the cosmos.

It’s the look of someone who sees just how very broken you are, and yet does not retreat from those vicious shards.

For the most part life is but an unending procession of monotony and repetition and monotony and repetition and monotony and ….

…fuck. See? See how easy it is?

And that’s just it. When did we become conditioned to believe that any of this nonsense would be easy? Life as a definition is the struggle for preservation......

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“Should we talk about this?”

It’s a question that goes unasked but lingers like a severed limb. She averts her eyes, a skill she knows so well and knows that breaks me into a thousand shards.

“Hey,” someone else interjects, saving us from the harsh reality. “Who needs another beer?”

“I do,” she says eagerly. Her jade eyes light up as she smiles; she is the beacon that fills a room whether she means to or not......

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And just like that,

I am back into a place I never 

thought I’d see again.

This weird amalgam of love and hatred and fear and power and passion and utter, crippling confusion.

How do people deal with this?

At the cost of sounding like a cynic…

is this pain worth it?

I genuinely oscillate between belief and regret.

This is just too much to comprehend: the mind seems like its about to rupture in absolute joy and complete mystery and I no longer have a heading in this fucked up maelstrom called life.

I’m haunted by the past…. scars that I keep wearing and fail at covering up.

And those marks had held me back for so long,

Have ruined so much

that I don’t know how to operate anymore.