Sometimes I manage to narrow down things that make being human difficult to be humane.
Today (for no apparent reason) I realize you can’t possibly fathom peace in your life when your first instinct upon being hurt is to hurt back harder.
We temporarily mask pain with delusional plots of revenge and we seek an audience to perform extravagantly staged atrocities designed to humiliate and embarrass the object of our obsession.
Some scripts are written on our tongues. We gleefully snatch the opportunity to tell the world, regardless of who is listening, what a jerkjack, thothead, whorehole, that so and suchwho is; and it may bring a brief moment of release until you’re chilling on the corner of by and yourself hearing the whispered truth of how hard you hurt when they initially toppled off the pedestal you constructed from flights of fancy; landing on your mental wellbeing.
Filmstrip documentaries of devastation are being narrated inside the minds of melancholy until they go offbook and create a wanderlust of damage.
Now here you stand, triumphant, faux award clutched inside blood stained fingers while emotional retribution escapes you.
This willingness to strike the iron no matter how hot; is a distraction from twinges of disappointment that entwine with and shadow your normal beating heart. Succumbing to base desires to extract emotional disruption by transference will degrade your quality of life and dehumanize you in the eyes of the seeing.
Inner peace will never be found until we recognize, embrace and overcome our hurts, address our personal demons and decide to stop living an ire for an ire existence.
The cipher rolls on.
Peace & Blessings, this is Iya.