Same story, different sides...

"...I need to learn more about myself, I donno what to do; I don't want a routine job, I don't think I can handle that." She said, and then after a moment of silence added:"I don't want to get married either, not after what I witnessed...I don't have a purpose, but I am thinking of doing something physical, discover myself you know??" How ironic, I can relate, especially that routine job thing, and ended up establishing a daily routine to balance all the randomness I am living.

I've been digging deeper and deeper, looping and recycling and digging again until I get the feeling that I got control over my fears, that I am transparent, that I am Hercules facing life, courageous and ready to face it all. Until it hits me the next day, find out how cowardly I've reacted, how quick I've fled the scene. Revealing the same old insecurities, same fears. I might have traveled a mile before regressing two, in other words took one step forward and two steps back. Then I beat myself for not trying harder, tell myself that I am young, that I am learning and that I will do better the next time...I mean I've a whole life ahead of me. And it strikes me how many times do I have to rinse, lather and repeat and I donno how many times are left before I suddenly wake up one day knowing that there's simply not enough time, at least not anymore.

Here I am doing too many things at once, distracting myself, learning different skills everyday and yet the closer i get to find answers, the further I am...The truth is a question, while seeking it might be an answer, you'd always wonder if it's ever gonna be enough. And I look around, at people like her, different than her and other than her; and no matter how hard they try to put on the happy face, you can still see through, something is missing, you've been there. No matter how others envy them, no matter how successful they seem. As frustrating as it is, I know I have to find my way, I know I need to choose my path, I know it's not easy and I am afraid of the extent of sacrifices it takes sometimes, I am afraid to repeat other people's mistakes and yet here I am growing, digging and crawling...

It's not all bad, like I said, I am growing and proud of what I've accomplished. But I always knew I could have done more, not regretting it as much as wondering how come I never saw it, thinking I was transparent and honest at least to myself, but damn I never saw it coming...I know that there are things I probably still ignore, or maybe my defensive mechanisms are too sly, but Looking at my mother I realize that sometimes you cannot stretch to your limits or beyond, sometimes you've to settle with the fact that you did the best you could at the time. While it leaves a lot to be desired, I know I cannot beat myself for not doing more. And then a bulb just lights in my head, and on to the new adventure...

I recognize my mistakes, I understand what I left behind, and my most important lesson was to let go, I often thought it was a form of surrender,of giving up, and now I know it's more about survival than anything else. I've always described myself as driven, enthusiastic, self motivated and energetic, while not far from the truth, but sometimes I wonder what does that mean. Sometimes nothing makes sense, because you'll look around, you excitement will fade away when you get that you've been living the same old story. You are just living through different circumstances.

I am unique, and it's a perspective in life. The thing is; I also know we are all the same and there's only one way to heaven...Whatever that means to you!

You may agree and you may disagree, you may be denying the loop, or circling around. Just share your story, inspire me...

Death...

It's always strange, it resuscitates a certain feeling, I do not know how to describe it, but I certainly know how it is like. It incarnates your deepest fear and exploit your unresolved issues, it doesn't matter who is dead or how old, it doesn't even matter if you knew that person or not. Some put it like a long period of sleep, but it's a wake up call, a wake up for everything that you put on halt, for everything you buried in the sand, things you didn't want to be reminded of, things that confuse you, it reveals unanswered questions, or maybe ones with the most undesirable answer...

Old people always find a consolation when they describe the funeral to be "the best" one could have, nice, and full of people, or the food to be great, trying to put their scare aside.
Funerals aren't always the same though, old people exits are usually calm with not many words to say, they weren't needed, pretty useless, and sick anyway...It's a great chance to mention how great they were and fake some stories, spicing things up with some drama, such as loneliness, inheritance issues, people who didn't show up, revealing the dark secrets that should be kept in order to keep stains away from the glorified images built through countless speeches throughout the process. There'll always be those nosy people, who always ask questions, that no one is ready to answer, some are in grief but those have come to collect stories and make up tales.

It is creepy and it freaks me out, you wonder, and bang your head into the wall with millions of questions without an answer, one thing you know, is that the dead are gone for good. You'll never see them, speak to them or hear from them again. You want to know how it feels, you want to know if it inflicts pain, you want to know what is it, you want to understand the mechanism. Unfortunately no one comes back to tell you what were they got into, or what were they doing.

No matter how many times it comes near you, it always trigger you, you never become familiar with such a thing, that you know nothing about, that deprives you of the people you know and often love, that sends chills down your spine, that leaves you shattered in grief, or perplexed with inexplicable emotions.

It always angers you; the feeling of being toyed with, of building castles and having God to destroy them, you feel manipulated and helpless, why did you do that, and how could you hurt me like that, you get to calm down a bit later and repeat Einstein's famous cliche: "God does not play dice." If you believe that he's there, it's all for the good. Later you feel that you were given the gift to outsmart yourself and understand what was the good about it and why it has happened. The fact is that it happens because it just is, here's no way you could think of to make it sound better.

It could be a plan executed with precision, described by the fact that it was the permanent end of a biological organism, could be earlier due to the effects of wear or rust, or that it is the permanent separation of body and soul. One thing I know for sure, I don't want to die before getting an answer to my questions, before reaching what I seek in this life. I don't want to die with the desire to live, I don't want to die unless I am attracted by the myth of what is going to happen next, I want to die when I am done.

The pain always comes from those who are still alive, people get worried for what and who they can still see, but no one said it's going to be easier for the dead.

I conclude with this line:
"Death is certain, since it is inevitable, but also uncertain, since its diagnosis is sometimes fallible"

Jacques-Benigne Winslow, Danish Anatomist: Morte incertae signa, 1740

May you rest in peace.