death_of_a_salesman warmthofrelease I used to think we didn't choose. But no, there is always a choice. Might not feel like there's more than one reasonable option and maybe that's the case. I saw waiting_for_godot and I decided it's better to be alive than to be dead. I've stood by that. That there was a question to begin with is unremarkable. That the question keeps coming up after it's been answered, well. That's a lot more convoluted. Can't just say it's a sign_of_the_times and move on. Or at least I can't. Used to think I could find it. I watched the_last_picture_show and it made me want to give up on love. I watched inside_llewyn_davis and it made me want to give up on dreams. I read paradise_lost and it made me want to give up on ever being satisfied. But I still feel love. I just can't place it and I can't preserve it and I don't know how to not spoil it and not waste it. But I do have a choice. My truth doesn't have to be their truth. I can keep looking or just keep holding out. I used to think there was no one I could relate to. But I probably just haven't turned over as many stones as I need to. There's bound to be other life in the universe, how could there not be? Of course, the likelihood of us all being alone isn't as small as the likelihood that we could close the distance before our organs give out. Such is the feeling when I'm told about there being plenty of fish in the sea. I used to think there was no one I could put up with. That there was no way to manage my own feelings, the jealousy, the starvation, that funny ironic rage that comes from emptiness. I read the_sun_also_rises and it taught me so much about tolerance. That humans are ugly and despicable and entirely worthy of patience and grace and forgiveness. Because we can only hate ourselves. And where does that get you. But love? We can place that into where it needs to go. I saw death of a salesman, again, and it made me think that it doesn't make a difference. No matter what our lot in life, we are all at the mercy of the human condition. We are all hanging on by a thread. We're forced to play other people's games and it's our own responsibility to find meaning in a sleepwalk. I used to think there was no value in sympathy. That it only ever made things worse. But to feel pity is to remind ourselves of compassion. That we want peace and harmony and goodness for ourselves. But there is a cost to it. We need to decide for ourselves whether or not any of this horseshit is worth it. I can't say that I won't change my mind. I used to not believe in spirits. I used to not believe in curses. But I can't escape the feeling like I've walked into the wrong room and seen something that I was not supposed to see. Like something is wrong. Like I have something to answer for, by being alive. Like this was not supposed to happen. I used to think it would all make sense in the end. That in the afterlife everything would be revealed, the whole grand design or at least the cause and effect, that it would all fall into place and we would all be able to see each other and know each other. I used to think that was the only way we could be forgiven for everything we've done to the earth, to its inhabitants, to one another. Now I don't think it matters. I think it's best to just make a damn choice and go, til you can't go no more. But I'm just so discouraged. So frozen by the hollowness of it. If I keep searching for it in other people I'm afraid I'm going to lose it entirely. And I will stay alive. So I close my door. I make a different choice. 250703 what's it to you? who go blather from