Thoughts

Experiences.  What are they anyway?  Singular events independent of each other, or a series of events with the purpose of an inevitable merge?  I find myself grappling with questions like this one if not for any other reason than to provide relief for a wandering mind; I could even go so far as to say for an unsatisfied existence.  There is such a deep longing--an aching actually--that perpetuates and persists within the depths of my soul . . . one that haunts my heart everyday.  To know there is something more, something better, something out there for me and [not be able to] explore it in its entirety, well, that knowledge continuously wreaks havoc on my affairs.

Decisions.  Which ones are right, which ones are wrong?  How does one avoid making the wrong decisions?  For several weeks now, the balancing act between responsibility and purpose has shifted so much toward the former end that I find myself teetering constantly, perhaps even dangerously, on a tightrope that can only bear so much unsteady footwork.  The mind is far detached from my physical being--so much so that days, dates, and times are just a cluster of confusion.  My only trepidation is that it will get worst over time if a better decision is not made.

Ideals.  Can ideals become reality?  Or must they remain emblems of hope, never to reach fruition, so not to risk losing the essence of their definition?  What is ideal is only ideal because of its fantasy nature.  The yearning for what is not, what has yet to be, everything that could be . . . 

People.  What conspires people to act a certain way and impart the things they say?  Why are humans so quick to make assumptions without first feeling the need to allocate empathy?  Narcissism and an intrinsic desire for relevance--two determining factors in the way people move about in this world.  Twenty-nine years of observation and I have come to the conclusion that those who spout criticism are the very individuals who prefer to be cruel than to be kind.  And why this is, I cannot answer.  Being genuinely kind should be at the forefront of our humanness, but alas, society has marked such a worthy attribute as one only the weak upholds.  Regression of moral function.  A pity.

Every so often, I let down my bag of thoughts and attempt to clear it of its weight.  This week called for an emptying.  Too many less-than-stellar experiences involving decisions, ideals, and people transpired over the course of one month, and more so, the last seven days.

Consider this my emptying.