“I want the truth, even if it wasn’t what I had thought it was. Even if it wasn’t what I wanted it to be.” Kee Aliens
On this road to clarity and happiness, every omen, every tea leaf, has been thoroughly frisked for meaning. All of the stones are up turned and words that alone meant nothing, examined. I have made life into some sort of fruitless archeological dig. I have felt that if I kept visiting every oracle that the great truth of my life will be revealed. But it isn’t. Only the untruths are showing themselves.
I have learned that what feels and looks like love is most likely a carnival. The loveliest of smoke, the cruelest of mirrors. And without reserve, I will always buy the ticket. The show is forever worth it. I have found that most of my words, the ones said and the ones said to me, are no armor against life’s bullshit. I cannot talk or think my way out of a world that has no language. I have seen with my own eyes how a highway dead ends and a wooded path that can take you to the Emerald City. Nothing makes sense and nothing ever will.
My journey home, a trip taken in desperation, brought me a precious couple of gems. One of them I was given by an old friend whom I respect without limit. He said to me that love is not a debt paid or time owed. Nobody has any obligation to love you romantically longer than they do. We insert ego into something that must remain untethered to be real. This is something that I have always felt but never admitted to. Romance is romance, not a promise of permanence….
The second jewel was this: When a snake bites, the only cure is to suck out the poison. And I am a snake that bites my own tail. And I am the antidote to the wound that I inflict, on myself, on others. I have been tearing myself apart all these years. I produce a false shine and turn on myself with the slightest sign of failure. There is nothing real in that action. That hunt only brings in bad meat and a broken heart. And so, back to the drawing board. Another reinvention. This one, hopefully, a clearer version of myself. Something with a little peace and quiet.
And the crowning jewel, the icing, the prize, the kings ransom…..love is all there is. Old words. Ancient sentiment. But fresh and true none the less. My weaponry in this battle is greased with love. Love for myself. Love for my friends. Love for those that storm the fields against me. It hurts, to be this open. It hurts, to have loved and lost. It hurts, to forge into the darkness with no light. And I am afraid. And I will be brave.