survival

 

How does someone who has left, someone who does not exist anymore in your space, still affect so many of your actions?

 

It’s tragic how we let them have that hold. Especially, since when you are in your senses you wouldn’t even consider talking to them let alone cry for them. Is it really them, or is the shattered reflection of us in them that we mourn?

 

Truth denies itself the opportunity to exist. So does sanity. If we were sane all the time, or even truthful, we would be unable to tolerate the pain with which we are afflicted.  So we subdue it, by acts of momentary madness, by happy facades, joyful songs and monetary pleasures. We make believe reality and step over ugly thoughts.

 

It’s a wonder how we move along so effortlessly from life changing events to smaller things which demand our attention. Only humans can misguide themselves that efficiently. It’s good. It’s a matter of survival.