Choice is a Luxury

choice is a luxury...brief moments when fate lets go of your hand and allows you to play within its view; you relish the untethered spin, the footsteps upon soft ground, free of predictable pavement. but your choices get spent, you collect the consequences and rewards you've acquired with them, and then you are wrapped once again in destiny's palm struggling with the paradox of security and stifled potential.

who do you decide to love? no one.
who decides to love you? no one.
these things just happen.

i don't only speak of romantic love, let's bypass that coveted cliche for the time being; let's pretend that none of us have ever been in love at all. right now we're new, uncorrupted, and innocent. we're still in a state where hope is a pleasant feeling rather than a taunting ache, a soreness which we cling to just for the sake of knowing we can still feel something. in your mind, with this particular illusion sparkling illuminated in the recesses of your flickering daydreams, what age are you? where are you? who are you with? what's your name, or is it the same? go back to a time when you measured the value of your life by what you had and not by what you've lost....before the gaps, the holes, the chasms, the emptiness swelling its boundaries over the delusions you once cherished as possibilities.

the feeling you are experiencing right now is not your heart breaking, but your heart broken. sometimes wounds cut so deep that they do not hurt at all when first inflicted, you might not even notice that you've been injured at all...until someone points out the injury to you, then the pain is an aggressive torrent drowning any and all previous thought and feeling into an obsolete white noise.

this is what i do...with myself and you; point out the wounds you didn't know you/we had. answer this question, calculate it on the scale of the honesty you fear so much: would you rather suffer and be healed, or remain blissfully happy and pain free while bleeding to death in your oblivious ignorance? this would be one of those choices....a choice because it involves the internal, the heart and the mind, the only territory which you have power and reign. everything external is a collective will that you are too small to begin to comprehend...the cell cannot view the body, nor really understand its purpose and function, it only does what it is built to do and responds to the external how it is constructed to respond; it knows only of the cells that share its space....it does not choose its chemical reactions or molecular chains.

all you can do is know those who happen to love you enough to share space with you....those who do not choose to love you, but do because it's what they were constructed to do, it is their molecular/mental structure, their chemistry, the inescapable bond that interacts subconsciously before the conscious mind even has a moment to measure the event. and you cannot burn for too long over those who do not love you or care for you....they had no choice in that either just as you never had which you would realize and understand if you had the courage to be honest with yourself.

those who are not honest with themselves are incapable of ever being honest with you. they cannot tell the truth because they do not know the truth.

all things begin and end with self. your self. even me. i am here as you see me to be and i am the substance of your filtered interpretation. i cease to exist in your reality as soon as you turn away from me. your vision is your brain's interpretation of photons, nothing else. the sounds you hear are your brain's interpretation of molecules slamming against one another in wave like patterns, nothing else. neither exist in the form you're accustomed to beyond the borders of your methodical nervous system. so i am and so are you to me. stars pulling satelites into orbit....and we have no control over gravity, only the imprints that those energies leave behind, only those memories and the knowledge which can be extracted from them.

i am where i am because gravity has put me here. and what does this mean? what point am i sharpening these words to? i don't know, i have no control over your intentions, your desires, nor all of the things which could presuade you to interpret these words in any number of ways.

life wants me dead. failures are only within the confines of the microcosm of my own wants and desires....yet these same failures are victories for the macro which indeed may not care the slightest for my present happiness or future happiness and as well indeed and certainly if i were to follow the patterns of my existence in order to determine the destination i am being steered in, perhaps it would not draw out a map to utopia...torture has its method and purpose....

i've said everything and nothing; asked questions under the guise of answers and prayed with silence. there's a mantra hidden in my breathing and truth hidden between these lines.

choice is a luxury....what is yours?