| it can't rain all the time |
|---|
|
Current Music: "In The Musicals" by Bjork Time and Thoughts I'm pretty sick of things lately. Most people I know, and I am coming to realize this the more and more I talk to them, are just purely selfish. What is it? No, not you. How could it be? The mirror, it does not reflect, it only shines. As brightly as your smile, it gleams. Does it not? Or perhaps not. Perhaps, just imagine this for a moment if you possibly can take the time and pry yourself from your own self-indulgence, and consider the fact that there are actually people that inhabit this land who are not so absorbed in their own selves as to obscure their vision so entirely that the images blur together. They blur together leaving only one. Your own reflection? Possibly. Better yet let us understand that this image is that of all of our faults intertwind and locked together so neatly that it belongs underneath a tree at yuletide with a nice big bow and some ribbon curls adorning it. So here I am. I give to you, oh casual stranger and dear friend alike, both my time and my thoughts. What singular thing can be given of greater value? All of the pomp and circumstance in the world will not grant you rebirth from the doldrums in which you dwell. Yet, for some reason, I can. A smile, born on your lips and resplendent on your face, is the tombstone of my virtue. I give to you without cost to you and due to great effort and desire on my part such a splendid moment of sweet solace. What do I ask? Not a moment of your time nor a mere thought. I just do. And should that smile fade like the sun as it sets over the distant hanging horizon, where shall I be but at your side offering more of my precious time. So very precious indeed. What is more valuable in this world than one's time? While money can buy a great many things and power with all of its corruptive influence can bring about so much change neither can purchase you another second of life when your end has come for you. Meet your maker or return to this soil anew, who is to say, but what I can speak of with some reasonable assurance is that there is no time and place for you to begin again once you have lost just a moment's passing. When I give to you my time, I secure in my very own existance that I shall never be allowed to quarter off such a second again. It belongs to you forever. When I pass a stranger on the street and admire her elegant gait or how confident he strides or a brilliant ensemble that person may be wearing it is forever attached to them that moment of my life. So should I lay in my chambers as night steals onward and grant you the thoughts of my life how shall I be repaid? I shall not. Were I to spend my day building in my head and with my own very hands a tribute to you in some fashion or design how might I be repaid? I shall not. It is so selfless, time is, and therein resides the genesis of love. In time. Walking hand within hand together down the avenue of our lifetime is that of thought. Now, you may be considering that didn't we just discuss thought as it was interlocked with time and all of its wonder? Yes, yes we did. However, thoughts stand on their own in such a way that I find it pertinent to leave it to its own standing. And stand alone it does. Thoughts are the cradle of every emotion and happening that may come about in our own lives and that of the countless others that cohabit this world in which we dwell. Should you do something for another or have something done for you each instance that very thing accomplished was first created from thought. When you go to play your friend's favorite song for them or send your lover a note extolling your love for her just because you missed her it is due to the fact you thought of it first. Any effort that you grant another emanates from thoughts. As with time, you can not recapture lost thoughts. They are the sole possession of the person to which you spent them on. Consider the world as a casino and your stack of credits is your entire lifetime, just how willing are you to spend large portions of said bank on the various people you already have in your life? Is that girl you had the three month fling with worth all of those credits? All of those moments? Is that guy that you spent over a year with after you knew it was for all intents and purposes long since over worth those instances? Worth that percentage of your finite amount of time in this world? The old addage is that after a nearly fatal incident people live each day as it may very well be their last. Well, good for them. Each day very well might be our last. So, tell me, casual observer and deep friend alike, just how important is the person you are thinking about right now to you? Are they worth such time? Is another on your mind or is it my writing that has encapsulated you for these still precious moments in life what occupies your thoughts? Which is more worthy? Are either? What is worth? Yet here I still reside, attempting to coax a smile on another person's face with my wit and my charm, with my hope and my humor, and with my heart and my soul. You see, I am what you see. There are no games here. When I bleed in these words, blood drips down from my fingertips and into each and every frame. Every line. When I speak of how much you may mean to me or how special I find you to be, it is not some foolish line for you to fall for nor some way to pierce the walls that bury you and get inside. It's just me. Yet I sit and I watch. I observe so many times where others are getting what they want. Time and thoughts. And here I sit alone. How is that? You see, because the selfishness that occupies this world extends beyond our own value and tarnishes another. I know the words and the ways to the heart. Should I ever seek to instill something that does not exist, fabricate a thought or manipulate the heart, I could. I know many who possess this same trait. Yet I watch them use it. And do I? Never. The way it goes for me is that I can be quite difficult. Quite demanding. Though consider the fact that I ask nothing more of another that I do not already demand of myself. When I give time and thoughts, I request not repayment nor some special bounty for my efforts. Only a smile. There have been times when I have been a firebrand of energy, singing any who comes near and at times even burning those I hold so dear. I am sorry for having burned you. Without fault I am not. Therein lies the games people play. Others will be so sensitive not to bother or upset or wound.. until their claws are sunk deep into you. Then you discover the truth of their self. So often the ugly truth. And here I sit alone. Watching. Once more giving time and thoughts to those I find to be so rare and special and asking for nothing in return, but hoping beyond the very limits of itself that hope shall shine right through me and lead me to my one. My one. So consider this all when next you stumble across what seems so perfect. Is it really? Is anything? I once wrote such in a poem. "Imperfection makes us all ordinary." Indeed it does, but the very truth of our imperfection and the open display of it makes for the extraordinary. So often I have been told someone is like me. Or they think like me. Or they feel like me. Or they act like me. Well, if such is true, then why do you not simply just.. See me? Time and thoughts. Time and thoughts. Time and thoughts. Can't you see? I'm just me. © LoveSuicide March 8, 2005 May you always find your smile.
You must be an Open Diary member to leave notes on this diary.
Hide Note Window
|