THE PERSPECTIVE'S ROOTS

by on Aug 5, 2020 - 4 min read
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Born not knowing, just like all of us I guess, into a life i haven't quite figured yet, again, like most. An anxiety trip, from when I can remember. Something out of those tell-all books, true story movie vibes, that's sombre. But mine isn't based on advice from a storyline that was known, but from an unravelling of life, one roll at a time that was just unsettling for the most part.

Without support and remorse for the basics of what should guide a life that is fragile and in need of tenderness, emission of love at its purest form, I met a reflection of eyes that project "lost", inable to commit. Inable to give, what they have no will and strength (to an extent) to give. Giving up on the thought of responsibility and sacrifice for another.

I failed to understand. Puzzled, at a young age over things I was taught through time I had no right to inquire about. Relationship turned cold, my thoughts must have been aggrievating, for the various inner me's that held the fort of my sanity. But all that that created, was room for me to be a troubled child with their shit together.

Loads in my heart of barrels i stocked, of hurt, pain, lack of belonging, shut me in my mind, thinking through time. Through analysing all outcomes, reasons, and the possibility of failure to accommodate the smallest inferences, impossible.

Grown, my aura fits into a form of good-ness, that is in rebellion to an example of an environment, dark, one that I know not to give into. It seems easy to be awful but the consequences are so quick to fumble all hopes for redemption. Conscious remorse for wrongfulness, has impact on the judgement the balance of life has in line for you, when the time comes for retribution.

And consequence, especially as a result of wrongness, a great fear of mine, I admit.

Going through harsh judgements for not fitting in quite so, in any specifics, made me an inbetweener. Literally. Never having all the qualities to pass the test of being, part of.

Lack of affection, which meant to matter to me, made me a sucker in every other relation. Especially boys. Need to be seen, for my suffering and penance for the decisions of others around me, that fell off on me, was all I had to offer. And so to show my willingness to survive.

Sweet sadness, un-raged anger, calculated pain, unending fear, unheld beauty, intuitive survival, stable anxiety, fragile strength, unresolved resentment, caged freedom, conscious insecurities, damaged worth, packed void, needy love. Representation of a body of conflicting outcomes. A world of dualities which ensures a balance in every measure of result.

Even with suffering, comes reason to understand need for compassion. Not because most are deserving, but because serving up vengence, is vain. Grace shown to all who need to be conscious of their vileness, through goodness, communicates much more than any act of revenge would. Revenge causes a back and forth, looming over, with a false sense of justification that's misguided.

Badness exists to expose what can be good, and thoughtful, possibility of positive abundance.

And even so, with a life of suffering, there is choice to uphold good over bad, without bias. A reflection of hope that life must have more. More to appease the destruction of overcoming your due diligence. Cause the world doesn't owe you, it collects. And life remains fairly unfair and unfairly fair, for all.

Listen to it. Intuition. For that is the root base of my perspective.


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