Maybe sometimes it's better to have tried, and failed, than to have never tried at all. After all, you only learn from experience, and that means the occasional failure. And the occasional bit of pain. And then, they say, you move forward, and move on, past the pain and on to something new.
... but why is it that every time I try, I always end up wanting to jab a really sharp blade into my heart?
The Western way of thought is to continually move forward, never looking back. But I can't buy into that. Not completely. I always want to look back. I don't want to forget. Forgetting can make you complacent. The Asian way of thought is to go around and around, again and again, over and over, and ending up in the same place you started - but hopefully wiser within. But I don't feel any wiser, just more scarred.
I don't know what it is. Others look at their accomplishments, their successes. I look not at my successes, but at my failures. And there are so many failures.
I've always tried to shed my selfishness, and have always tried to strive for harmony with others. To help others, and make them happy. And yet it's all a lie, because I'm very selfish, inside myself where no one else can see. And there, inside myself, inside my heart, I feel no harmony. No happiness.
Only emptiness.
The lifeblood poured forth from the beast's wounded heart - yet it yielded only dust...
1 comment:
I've probably told this story before...
In ninth grade, this girl I had a semi crush on was put on the same volley ball team as me in gym class. How could that be bad?
But I assumed beyond gym, the standards went back to the way they were, i.e, she was pretty and cool, and I was the kid who usually walked home rather than fight for a seat on the bus.
One day, walking down the hallway in school, she came out of a class ahead of me, saw me as she walked down the hallway, and waved.
To me?? Surely not! I knew there had to be someone behind me, someone she knew, someone... cool. She kept looking though, and finally, with what I imagine was a hurt look, turned away.
I looked then, and found I was alone in the hallway.
I've had family die, been mugged, gone under the knife, and so much more, but that was the memory (among many) which haunted me every single day.
Until I found a way to put it in perspective. Until I was able to meditate, and breath it out into the ether surrounding us. I held onto my pain for my own reasons, and when I felt I didn't need the pain anymore, I let it go.
I can't tell you how to let go of yours, no one can, but I wish you the most profound luck in finding your path. (by the way, life is not a straight line, nor a circle, but a spiral- food for thought)
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