so I give up

in the end, fear won over love. the desire to do something out of the ordinary, no matter how strong the desire, cannot infiltrate, cannot escape from, the happily ever after – which allows love to be a kind of feature, something manifested by words, and perhaps gestures, but it is not spiritual food.

I am looking for someone who wants to actually succeed at letting love rule their lives.  someone who is confident that this is entirely possible, indeed difficult, but difficult in the sense of mountain climbing. not the difficulty inherent in the tragedy of the failure of humans to hold on to love no matter what, and the petty anger that we direct toward one another, when we see how tragic that failure is. tragic because we see ourselves just letting go so easily. so weak. our commitments to other humans are paper thin.

and how is it that you read Rumi?  how do you come to Hafiz?  Jesus? do you know that you MUST take those words and live by them and die by them?  that saying the words to one another, sending the words – is nothing. interesting reading.  provocative literature. no!  not meant for consumption but rather regurgitation.

don’t you see the end? the tapering tunnel? your words will be swallowed.  all of them. the portal will close, all of a sudden, and you will regret all the moments you spent apart from the one you love.  and you will know who that is.  there will be no one to listen to your brilliant life plan. you will move your lips, and our mouth with speak into a funnel.  this is what we all fear.  silent and lonely, we witness the things we KNEW we should have done.  we knew it. we knew it.  we can’t get out of it.  but in the end, getting out of it is clearly irrelevant. doesn’t that worry you? or, don’t you know that from your 30s on, it will be the hour hand ticking. the minute hand for your childhood fantasies.

on this day, I accept defeat.  I waged the war, carried the standard onto the field in valor, and brought it back from the field shredded and dirty.  mocked by the poets and balladeers, who all have said, at least once, you will lose this battle every time, and yours will be the fatal wounds.

so I give up.

and here, we stop.


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