Selfish cowardice!

So if our hopes, dreams, fears and pains can be halved or doubled by simply sharing, then why do we keep them secret, why do we hold on to them as if if they were our last breath.

Afraid to let them go...

I think however that the reason we keep them hidden is that we are scared, scared of being awkward, being betrayed, judged! or not even being noticed...

Is this what we do to each other, is this what life teaches us, is this really something we can't or dont want to change?

Are we really just Pavlovian dogs, are we not able to see each other with eyes unclouded by whatever creature, being, trauma or scar we have encountered along the path?

Are we incapable of breaking free of our instincts, is that not what is suposed to make us human?

The ability to forget, change, evolve...

As opposed to Pavlovs k-nines we can be more precise in perceiving what it is that is painful, narrow it down and pinpoint, not generalise and envelop endlessly, or we are surely doomed to alienate our selves into absurdity!

Most of us don't fear cats, dogs or children, presumingly because we dont perceive them as having reason, strength or motive to do us any harm! However they are not much different from us, the unconditional love we perceive, is just as selfish if not more and certainly as conditional...

The difference is that we are contending on our terms not theirs!

So we feel comfortable giving... In return we get as much as we give.

Fearlessly!

 

 

 

 

The Touch of Turmoil...

Turmoil eternal friend, fiend, my cross and comfort...

Love, is it her mother or is she the offspring?

Am I drowning or dying of thirst?

It's me, it's all me! But in the loss of gravity I fail to

perceive my position or condition...

Have I become too greedy, expecting more than I deserve?

Or have I sought my self denial so deep that I'm ceasing to exist

as a physical entity...

The twists oh these twists that turn my world around fingers, never touching...

The touch I so crave, any touch... But a void can not be touched, maybe felt but not touched!

And surely the void cannot feel the hand passing through it as it searches for something solid to caress...

And I've seen the unsentimental eternity of cyclic energy, it has no memory or feeling its mass is unchanged by the nuances we apply to our withdrawals we make from it or taint the deposits we claim to make...

It's all just the meaning we strive to squeeze out of our existence...

 

So, how come we deny ourselves and each other the one thing that makes a difference in this indifference turmoil, the closeness of that touch... The comfort of warding of the empty night is a spoon, an embrace to confirm that we are not alone in being alone...

 

What misguided pride, what cruel moral or endless stupidity makes us fear the this touch, this touch of life