“I take for granted that for the imaginative writer, the exercise of the imagination is part of the basic process of coping with reality, just as actors need to act all the time to make up for some deficiency in their sense of themselves.”
– J. G. Ballard
There is tranquility when detoxing yourself from something pernicious. Initially, it is as if each euphoric moment is worth the breadth of disenchantment; as if in moments of weakness we forget about the torment and focus solely on the discomfort of growing desolate. Being awarded a circumstance to aid in eliminating addiction can ultimately break a cycle. It can show an individual the radiance they once eulogized. When prescribed this opportunity to reflect, passion is uncovered.
“Have you ever thought about why you want it so badly?”
We strive for and attempt to be present; we claim ignorance for what is known to proceed. The unknown is tempting. Being given the chance to escape, given an opportunity to change something, anything; it’s tempting.
I find humour in how toxic these euphoric sensations become. To rehearse and repeat the tragic ending that will inevitably appear, only to lose all sense of reality. How can one be so easily persuaded? It is as though we can only survive on the unknown, lost in a fairytale that only exists on paper.
To live in the world as it is
and save your soul too
is a lot to do”
– Tom Clark
I never understood how people could promptly leave without plans to return. To desert everything familiar for adventure; something new. Puzzled, while ultimately intrigued.
I now experience an overwhelming need to escape. Pained by an environment that was once so comforting; somewhere I was incapable of leaving for any significant period of time without missing it.
I now find difficulty in being rooted to a single location. I find myself welcoming each opportunity with much excitement and no hesitation. There is something about new scenery, open roads, and good music that helps soothe an aching soul.
“Oh, the comfort, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person; having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but to pour them all out, just as they are, chaff and grain together, knowing that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and then, with a breath of kindness, blow the rest away.”
– George Eliot
There is something about the human body that aids in escaping; loneliness, sadness, emptiness, discouragement, despair, heartbreak. Being immersed in another person seems to briefly comfort and heal most wombs. It is as though this addiction encourages sane individuals to escape reality even for a second, yearning for the next opportunity of lust and comfort.
I wonder what the attraction is to these strange bodies. We starve for the affection of those who are unconnected in our lives; those who are not expected to care for us unconditionally. It is as if receiving this attention is a form of acceptance. As if the consideration of unfamiliar people is valued higher than those of our closest relationships.
I had never felt anything so powerful. So threatening and addictive; a nostalgic scent I was incapable of retaining. He was my knight and I would never understand why I always came back for more.
“Once the time goes, it’s gone
And no wisdom can retrieve it.
Grave thoughts bear the mind down.
And the body has no choice but to follow.
It comes down to yes or no, and pain’s in back
of every choice that turns to act.”
– Mark Rudman, “Solitaire”
The human need to be flawless is frightening. So many people conceal their dreams and aspirations to avoid judgment. Moments are never experienced due to trivial excuses; insignificant justifications that will be forgotten. Not having completed the challenge is what you will remember – not why.
Someone once told me it is a shame one cannot view themselves in raw emotion. To experience how one reacts with passion. To truly see ourselves laugh or cry without the mask one wears in the mirror. It is as if being truly ourselves is a disgrace.
I cannot help but feel frustrated toward this way of living. To be held back from adventure and pure joy due to a crippling fear of rejection. There is no better time to experience life than with every new day. Be free and happy.
“All these characters are complex, somewhat insolent, defiant, desperate for attention and love, and very much a product of their times. Theirs are inner lives created in reaction to the structures that surround them.”
– Sadie Stein
Do you ever compare yourself to other people? Observe photographs of strangers as if it symbolizes their perfection? Believing their happiness is solely based on their beauty, that they can never be upset with life – be human – because of it. It can be elementary to compare yourself to these fictitious lives. Lives that are composed of societies perception of beauty – what it takes to be okay. Do you ever imagine what lives they have? How many friends they confide in. How many people want to be around them, to be noticed by them. How little they feel upset because they have no concept of imperfection. No one could possibly be that perfect.
Maybe we’re too hard on ourselves. Maybe we look in the mirror every day only to overlook our true qualities. The things that make us unique. Maybe all we can see is imperfection.
Maybe we should stop that.
“…then the moon steps from the cypresses and
A wave of feeling breaks, phosphorescent-
Moonlight, a wave hushing on a beach.
In the dark, a flame goes out. And then
The afterimage of a flame goes out.”
– Frederick Seidel “Flame”
Throughout a single life, there are thousands of connections made. So many people just like yourself touch your mind, body, and spirit; teaching you, guiding you, supporting you through whatever struggles may be present. It’s fascinating to think that in a specific moment there could be a handful of individuals who mean more to you than anything. These people are your life line, your belief system, they carry you and help you up. Those same people, minutes, days, years later may become obsolete. Becoming only a distant memory one finds themselves reminiscing for.
I find it so hard to comprehend this normality. As if losing touch with so many souls is something that we shouldn’t be concerned with. It’s understandable, a human being can only connect with so many lives at a single time, yet I can’t help but find myself wishing it was a possibility.