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The awkwardness of life circumstances
Often bewilder unsuspecting souls
Leaving them wondering what and why.
What is the purpose?
Why did or is it happening?
What can they learn from it?
Derivatives of what and why echo throughout my head and heart
As I grapple with the finality that life’s beginning always requires
Its ending
Grief is something that I know that I have experienced enough for several lifetimes but I know that for each day that I’m afforded
I’m ensured that the experience is not too distant for me to forget its potential return
This is why I continue to struggle with the meaning of personal attachments
We open ourselves up to the beauties of another’s journey
only to one day see it fade away
Whether expected or not
The pain of loss is one that I have yet to master
Ironically the pain of embracing seems to be even more painful for me
I see letting others close to me as a paradox that I’m no longer sure I wish to explore
Why and what, resurface in the most complex ways
Why do we need others in our lives so desperately?
Is something that confounds me and my current state
Why does embracing others into our worlds require such risks for such immeasurable rewards?
What does a life of exile offer us in contrast?
I rely on the thoughts of Said and Sarte to fill my void
Insofar
I still have not figured this out to any real conclusion
In moments of loss and potential gains
Seeds of existential thoughts permeate my realm
As the struggle for control of each circumstance is undertaken
So far the winner does not reside within my shell
Tormented by uncertainties that beg to be asked
Yet frightfully unwilling to seek out the answer
But for tiny increments of time
when I engage my thoughts and imagination
within the written word
I am free of all that burdens me
thereby
provided a release from all that haunts me
beyond what I normally share
Some see this as humanity at its core
I see it as an exercise that I’ve learned,
which seems like so long ago
In a sense this serves as a substitute for the inactivity that entraps me
A paralysis that is of my own doing
I suppose
Emotionally Adrift
This is a journey that I am and have committed myself to
for a plethora of reasons
However
I have yet to construct a path that fits the worlds of so many who I have come in contact with throughout this odyssey
I am not Ulysses
yet I now wonder if
I seek a modern day Penelope and Telemachus
for my own return from my peculiar internal wars
that seem to plague me as if I were in an era long ago
My armor consists of an air indifference to the casual onlooker
My weapon is a lyrical medley of articulations that flow via synapses
Linking eclectic renderings…

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