Thursday, 12th of October
Day I, lesson I
The people here, are some of the kindest in the world. Often, I wonder why it is that life is so cruel to the sweetest of hearts. As humans, perhaps it is in our nature to wonder why life is so unfair to us.
Are we not good, and kind? What wrongs have we unknowingly committed that have influenced life to punish us so?
I have come to the conclusion that, it is not life, but our own selves that determine our downfall of which is so often referred to as ‘karma’.
My reasoning?
Anything, in excessive quantity, inevitably becomes destruction.
Here, we learn of ‘self-care’, and ‘self-love’, and self, self, self. I am beginning to think that true human nature is simply : selfishness. It seems that some forms of selfishness, are truely, depressingly, vital to our survival. Myself, and perhaps a large number of other patients here, have tried so very desperately, so excessively, to stomp out these basic selfish needs of ‘self-care’, that we have brought upon ourselves destruction in the form of self-sacrifice; caring always for others before our own selves, denying our human nature the basic selfish essentials it feeds off of so heavily that this ‘true nature’ has become malnourished, emaciated, destroyed.
The remainder of patients here, I assume follow the opposite extreme, leaving their humanity to lavish in luxurious selfish needs, gorging on these essentials until they become so truely human that they can’t stand it. So full, and yet always starving for this selfishness that they develop and apathy for living, for working, for giving and earning life. Self-care, to excess, becomes inescapable procrastination (a lovely shortcut to self-deprecation). However, the human ‘self’ is a gullible thing, one that will gladly gorge on procrastination under the false pretence of ‘self-care’, or starve itself of such under the illusion of perfect ‘selflessness’.
Assuming ‘self’ refers to this selfish human nature, the same can be applied to self-love. One who adores this self-serving, greedy ‘self’ excessively, surely is considered a narcissist; one who truely believes the people around oneself are simply lesser. One who holds hatred for those living individual lives with the belief that life revolves around one’s own selfish being. Excessive ‘self-love’ is simply destruction by chosen ignorance.
The excessive loathing of self is, unnervingly simply, the belief that oneself no longer desires to live. True hatred of the way - as humans- we truely depend on selfishness (to any extent), this pure hatred of one’s basic, primal, self, is lucidly destruction by chosen understanding, consciousness of self.
I have thus decided that, life, at it’s core, simply means: ‘to balance’.
~ b.s.
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I can only hope someone loves me enough to show up at my funeral … steal my head, then run pell mell to the grave yard with it --holding it high in the air… *sniff* 😔
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You know that song that repeats the line "he ain't heavy, he's my brother"? I have a love hate relationship with it. I love what the person who wrote it was trying to get across: that they love their brother so much they'll carry him and his baggage no matter how heavy or far. I get it and I love it. But. While I don't have brothers, I do have sisters and other family. I love my family. We all have tons of baggage. I carry it best so I do. I carry my sisters, my mom, and my dad when he lets me. I do it happily. But it is heavy, especially with my own baggage. It's really fucking heavy, but I carry them anyway because I love them. And is that not what love is? Holding someone and supporting them? Caring for them? Carrying them when they let you?
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Story is the truest transcendence mortals may find,
for what is Love but the story of communal Hope?
What stories are we choosing to tell each other?
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We all vow forevers, but how many us actually mean it?
People define love is care, compatibility, sacrifice, compromises and so on. But when we define something, we restrict it's growth and love doens't, rather it shouldn't have boundaries, it was never meant to be constrained.
People are mortal, love is not.
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