Little is known or much is hidden. From then till now. Small credit is given to the relation of our bring-up, to what we aspire to bring up. The affection showed that would help foster our walls of virtue and communion. Every little thing, like a piece to finish the puzzle, has effect. How you think, what you aspire for, your range of what is okay, or neither, and at most your relation to that that is close but opposite to you. I was a girl, so that would mean a boy. Special, full of advantage, learning, but understanding the power of reliance on. Growing, becoming. But according to others’ specifics of what being means.
All that is important but not as the continuity of life through the various picture roll-outs that are imbedded in us since conception. How it is hoped you are either of the two, and treated so. Till you fail to remember that apart from either ‘feminine, masculine’, you are first whoever they call you. That you have no lack of capability, just because they make a fuss of where to belong.
Anyway. Growing up me, and others alike, you get caught up in the fantasies they serve. Of Union. The story of the various two’s running off into some sunset. Without context for all that lurks. The shadows that lie in the covers of the books that hold that reality. What it has to be. Without recognition for actual-ness, a one-sided perspective of togetherness. The vain accomplishments sought for by most that disempower true intention. Always some ulterior motives. The deceit that breaks hearts and taunts souls, and the dread to long-for any future in courtship.
My seasons of experience are like a love and hip hop sequel. The feeling you get when you wonder, “Is it scripted, or reality?” Well, I guess an in-between - Scripted reality. Cause to an extent what happens seems planned for. That some deal with others in the same way. The process of chase, the punch lines, sweet nothingness in action, the fall-for-a-fraud, and in hind sight the player playing the game. As they say, “players are gonna play.”
At first being fooled feels like a mistake. “I mean, he couldn’t have just duped me for laughs! Right?” Second, third, fourth time, “shame on them. Nkt!!”
After season 1, 2, and 3, shit gets deep. Criticality kicks in. You start blaming. Yourself, others, society… It gets border lining stressful, depressing, intimidating – just sad/desperate.
Seeking, what must be an explanation of what is and has been, and not to bother, but to understand - whose fault it must be that all the dreams you were served up for, a happy ever after, were blatant. False. Not true.
And when you stop chasing unreachable affirmations for what you think you wanna hear as retribution for the hurt you have been caused-which mostly never comes through - you seek what you have in you. “It should be thought…”
For sure a lot of shit out there is irreversible, a playback glitch in your system. Exibit A
; Finding a lover with a “just a friend” character in your together-safe-space, or being taken a fool without any regard for your intuition or not-making-sense sense that always dawns when in the middle of a messy situation explanation, C;
Not forgetting the bitter part of what happens when your confrontations and endless experience of the representation of what the pits of hell should be like, are somewhat put on you. Like, “YOU DO SOME DUMB SHIT & ITS MY FAULT.” The 1+1= anything other than 2/11, mentality.
Worst. A blow, that you haven’t been enough to warrant love.
Like L, O, V, E!
I wonder what that is. Cause I have said the twister, It goes a little like… “ I love you, you love me, we’re a happy… With a great big hug and kiss from me to you, won’t you say I’m the love of your life”
It’s pure, kind, does not hate or hurt, causes goodness and is bright. It elevates. Gives, not takes only. Is mindful – like thoughtful, caring, calm, un-cold. No pride, deceit, selfishness, anger. Does not dishonor others.
- Lost the rest. But you get the drift…
I have tried mostly, to be a reflection of what it should, or maybe a representation of the outcome of a misunderstanding that is centered on my need to fully exude it. But mostly a recipient of the ANTI. Maybe this, or that, that we hope it should carry and offer, in our endless pursuit. The pursuit for true oneness in form added up from two.
That Love is everything Good. All wrongness, is not it. And that buts don’t fit in.