slated in
mused at 1:33 am
I don’t need answers the same way I used to. I still have all the questions. I’m okay with that. I still love to have answers and I still would rather know than not know. I still feel I’m an invasive species, however it’s very selective now; I’m disinclined to pry.
I still believe in truth and love the idea of it, though I know that truth and reality are not the same, and truths are subject to all the lenses — perspective and time and the beholder and the writer and the accompanying foundational truths and compounded truths.
Similar experiences, different habits and responses. We are meaning machines. Love is the bridge, choice/personal-responsibility is the power. Happiness is a favorite habit and breathing is a new one of which I will be world+ class. If we’ve really learned it, we can teach it. Best is living it, loving it, together.
I am really surprised I never noted Ani DiFranco’s Fuel here, neither complete lyrics nor excerpt. I have referenced it, at least in 2007; feels underrepresented, given how much it’s cycled through my head the past many years.
Why is EVERYONE constantly making any two people a romantic ship these days if they’re seen on screen together for all of two seconds? It is Not sane and it has Bad implications for the real world, and assumptions and approaches and expectations and interpretations. Two happy seconds with a person does Not mean a whole thing.
One of my favorite lines from The Magicians is “I’m the official sidekick to whatever it turns out you are.“ I like it for several reasons, and I like that the show is such a ridiculous and realistic and absurd mash of relationships and people and friendships and sexual experiences and even the ones that despise each other still come through and protect one another and it’s real friendship and love, never mind where they are in which official/technical/past/potential/whatever relationships.
slated in
mused at 5:11 am
Children are generally happy because they do what they do and be what they are or even pretend to be what they want to be without second guessing if it’s okay or they did it right or what will happen if they do or don’t. Anxiety and unhappiness live in the thinking over the past and in the thinking over the possible futures, and in the dissatisfaction/resistance to actual and possible. Joy is in the accepting/embracing/loving oneself and surroundings all as is/may be.
slated in
mused at 10:51 pm
Are all days beautiful? Probably no. And actually yes. My lifetime experience so far assures me there are days that seem and feel awful, with disappointments and injustices and fears and damages; and my lifetime experience so far assures me that new days come, and opportunities and possibilities are born of and borne upon our past days and paths and choices; and favorite days are connected back to difficult days; and while there may be plenty to leave behind, if they had not been then neither would we; maybe sometimes that could seem preferable, yet would you give, risk, trade your good days to negate the “bad”, and the people you love and impact that rely on your days as they were, to be where and who they are too?; we all impact, all are impacted by our past experiences and growth, our future hopes and expectations. Worthwhile at what point? That may be up to us.
Be where you choose; end up where you chose.
slated in
mused at 8:52 pm
I feel inoculated, however that’s not the same as immune. What I do believe is that I know I’ll get through. I remember feeling like nothing good is reachable, I remember feeling unmendable. I’ll remember I’m not the only one. I’ll remember when I told someone very dear to me, when she was going through her own devastation and couldn’t see herself standing again, couldn’t imagine light — just a dark cave — that all you have to know is that you’re in a tunnel and there is light outside; you don’t have to know how you’ll get out, don’t have to know when you’ll see sun, just know that it’s there, and that you will get there too.
I think being a bit in love with a lot of people — without needing them to yourself nor needing to be loved by them — might be the best thing.