Well this is a weird time. I can't tell if I'm just manic or lonely these days. Lots of people who I CAN connect with, lots of people I SHOULD connect with, and the overwhelming unfathomable depth of people I don't connect with, despite that being the primary axiom these days.
So I write to the void, not for a pen pal but because I hope my words can give me some meaning when all seems upside down.
I invite myself own in the midst of mania, in the throws of struggle and I can't help but worry about who I may become. The human imagination is a limitless font of incredible beauty, but the risks dipping your toes in too deeply might make you see the youth in every direction. It doesn't always have to be a demon that's whispering into your ear, despite that's what you want it to be.
Instead of the negative kneejerk reactionisms, I'd rather move on to being slightly more enlightened. I think I am getting there slowly, but breakups break open who you were and leaves you to collect the pieces. Sometimes you don't always get put back together the right way, sometimes some extra pieces come along with, sometimes you're missing the edges and corners. But without a constraining edge, you can reach for new potentials, new limits, and opportunities to spread beyond the tapestry of who we felt we were destined to be.
I can't help but realize that I have been deeply unhappy for many years. The passion and the void, The obligated orgasms, the disappointing despair of a long that had long slipped through our fingers. It wasn't fair to you, but I never took the time I needed to be loved. There is nothing worse than the pillars you chain yourself to as the backbone of you penance, and baby, these pinnacles are piercing the heavens. Can I tear them down?
It's finally time to start taking agency in my own life, and my goodness Im doubling down on this hard. I can't help but worry that I won't land on my feet well, but I also wonder whether it's even worth the crisis of self worth. I know what I like, I know I can actually be happy with the world I've created and explored. I can have those vast deep conversations that rub the heartstrings in harmony. I can appreciate the suspended drops of dew amidst the the grass, the crystalline dessicated husks of life after the ice.
Despite all the shit, all the things that make you check under the bed at night, all the things that make you hope tomorrow never comes, I want to cut through my blackness, your darkness everyone's deep seated doubt. I want to hold your hand. And your hand (everyone gets a hand!). We're gonna step forward, not stand stationary, to experience this goddamn beautiful existence.
Take a look at the leaves and marvel at their immaculate perfection. Listen to the squabbled calls of the starlings, chirping and cawing a song from far away, made uniquely here. The log of a mighty oak, rotted and rooted, and even in its passing, life persists amidst it's decayed core, flourishing in uncountable denizens thankful for the shelter.
These chains of inadequacy, the tethers of doubt, this grip of a paralytic time will be shed, are being shed. Despite all this, I will rise and grow, even if it must be as an ephemeral amidst the concrete jungle. I will do good, we will do great, everyone will inspire and move
For if life has no meaning, that meaning is for us to define. The ties that bind and the joy that shines will carry us to the next season in this cycles of rebirth and decay. And in this next cycle, let's forge those chains, not that keep us tied down, but rather, tied together.
I miss this community, I miss every community left to rot, especially due not to our own actions. But rather the actions around us. Reach out. Find someone to talk to and tell them everything. It's the only way to get started in this next cycle. Much love from the Crunchy Granola Grandpa (TM).
