I don’t understand the enjoyment of sports.  Of hitching something, your ego I suppose,  to the team winning. And it’s, in most cases, only winning.  When the team wins,  it’s We won.  When they lose, it’s They lost.  I get watching and on some level I can enjoy the athleticism of it.  I can root for a team as part of a role, but it’s empty.  At my core,  I just don’t understand.  Comradery I get.  Being fans and being at the game, getting caught up in the emotion of the crowd,  I get that.  But sitting at home alone and experiencing the same thing,  bwuh? I’m not against it.  Basically because I can’t muster the passion to care.  Just one of those things I guess.

I would in my heart fain love though in truth I know only emptiness, to have had love then lost is more bitter than to merely yearn for what one has never known.
And to drink this bitter draught while the brothers of my choice find what I have lost and sought leaves my heart more desolate.
For I should be joyful in their joy but often it is such that I summon a mask for the self and select a different face to the world.
Would that the way were more clear or perhaps merely my perception of it.

I’m an asshole. I know it.
I let my indignation and admittedly large ego, run my tongue and fingers when logically I should keep my mouth shut. I let my emotions run me, when I’m not clamping down so hard on them I go numb. I retreat to those things I perceive as truth and assault everyone around me with them. I accept cultures and things held at a distance and I’m good at seeing nuances and subtleties, as long as it’s at a far enough remove.

The closer someone is the more poisonous I become. Except for those few in my inner circle whose goodwill I care about and even they are subjected to rants and horribly pointed and venomous retorts. Eventually, unless the person is extremely patient or gods forbid, genuinely likes me, I will drive them away.
Sometimes just because I can’t conceive of someone actually liking me, I’ll metaphorically shove the knife in. I won’t realize it consciously until later but subconsciously I knew what I was doing. And nine times out of ten I’m not sorry. Sure I lament the results, but what I said is true, if stated in the most hurtful way possible, and my ego and ethics won’t let me apologize for something I see as truth. I could go on and on. Welcome to my brain.

I’ve been struggling with how to say this without sounding naive but I don’t think there is one. In my internal voice, it seems reasonable but out loud I sound like a fool or a prig. I’ve probably seemed worse here, so enough preamble.

I believe that love is the only choice we get to make that matters. If the choice is love or anything else (except in cases where to persue love is a betrayal), then love is the choice. It may result in contention, depression, tears, anger and rage or it may not work at all. But the chance, should always be taken. Always jump off the cliff. Love may die from neglect, or be found to have not existed, but the opportunity to persue love should always be seized. Just don’t fall in love with love. See what is really there and don’t fall prey to obsession.

I seek beauty. In my younger days, I sought happiness all unknowing that it will shift down into loneliness or desperation. Lured by a culture taught to pursue happy at all costs. That to be happy is life’s purpose. Now, as I come out of a deep and abiding sadness whose cause, the thought of, these years later still leaves me almost shattered… Now I seek beauty, from the turning of a leaf to the bone deep rage of the storm. In soft lips seen across a room and in the slow deloreous decay of a city seeking both its roots and its future. These glimpses of beauty bring joy and even the elusive happy. But it is the cause I seek not the results.

You can’t be just one thing and survive this life. and you rationalists will say that no one survives this life. well, while correct that death takes us all, there is a worse fate for many of us. To walk from day to day, living for the next thing, the next time, for some promised future when it will be better, when you can rest, or do as you desire, or be with the person you love. I see so many of us with that affliction. And it’s not that those lives are necessarily bad. Many of them are happy. Maybe it’s because I’m seeing it from a distance but there seems to be missing in many the spark, the piece of themselves that they could be, if they took a single step outside and saw what was possible. You plan for the future because it is necessary, but you live now, in the moment. You plan, set the plan in place, then let it go. You plan for as many possibilities as you can imagine then let those go as well and trust that you are capable of adapting well enough that you will survive. You all have it in you to be…so much more…; I wish more people grasped that and walked sideways into their future.