I've realized that there is a certain limit to my participation of helping, like it or not. I'm shackled to a wall of self-judgement and my chains have a determined length that'll only allow me to reach rejection..
No. I'm not playing victim, but I'm being forced to play the role of a spectator. My involvement obviously isn't enough.. the lack of desire in my involvement is so great that I've been restricted to what I can say, what I can do. I bite my tongue, stopping me from voicing my invalid opinion. I drown in frustration because I was left to assume and guess. I'm left to come up with terrible endings that maybe, just maybe I could've prevented, and if not that.. then at least soften the impact of painful pressure.
Tell me, is that fair?
It's not in my control, sure. But nothing's in my control, nothing is in your control either. Hell, it's not in anyone's.
A man that I look up to told me of how he received an interesting fragment of inspiring information from his therapist. "We think that we have control over our lives. As human beings we believe we have this kind of dictatorship of how our lives are allowed to flow, but really it's anything but. You could walk out of here today and a car could collide into you, full impact and nothing could've prevented your death. You could choke on dinner tonight and not only lose oxygen, but your life. You could die. Right. Now. You're completely vulnerable to levels of danger and somehow you're able to escape death everyday without noticing because you're too busy creating a story you're fully committed to, assuming that it's more important than the world around you.. then you have the audacity to slap the label of life onto that story and pretend to pursue it."
A little morbid, incredibly weird, but when you think about it.. we are just another species walking this earth as if we own it when really it owns us. We've just escaped it's grasps so many times that we've adapted to it as a style of living, and now it's so familiar we call it routine sugarcoated with again.. that damn label of life..
So why dwell on a dumbass problem that will disappear in a week? Why reject the leverage that will get you through this week?
You don't have control over your life, you have control over your story. Congrats, you're a writer, we all are, doesn't mean you're different, doesn't mean you're special. But it means there's a huge significance in your decisions that will affect not just you, but everyone.
So wake up, smell the roses, eat a stick of butter covered in sprinkles, touch him or her, believe in unicorns, be a flat earther- though I don't support that fully, create a story on webtoonz, listen to my chemical romance, devote your life only to your dog.. but most importantly luv, let us help.. let me help.
We stay together, remember? So, don't be a stranger I'm handcuffed to.
_____
...
-belle </3
YOU ARE READING
one day i began to think
General FictionAlright, so this was formally known as lazy reads. It's no longer that. I do put short stories on here occasionally. OCCASIONALLY. But recently it's been a nice little public journal that really no one reads. What I publish is supposed to be someth...
