This and That
it’s not about truth, it’s about power.
Who’s got it. Who wants it. What can be done to determine whether or not you can obtain or sustain it.
Truth is too subjective, too predetermined based on personal bias, on beliefs, on partial pieces of the puzzle. And when you base your reality on parts of a whole, you are never capable of seeing the whole picture. By choosing willful ignorance, you ignore the greater truth. You ignore reality, and willfully turn a blind eye to not only its existence, but it’s possibility. I have no time for hypocrites, ignorance and half-truths anymore. I’m out of patience. The facts of the matter is that it’s far too easy to create your own reality – a bubble of what you want to believe and run with, make choices upon and act ignorantly. And by abjectly refusing to acknowledge a different perspective, stating it to be inferior because it does not fit in with what you believe is beneath me.
The power, in this instance for me, was to realize I don’t give a damn. I don’t give a damn what you say about me, I don’t give a damn about what you’ve deluded yourself into believing. I don’t give a damn about spreading lies and rumors to make yourself feel better. Do what you’ve got to do. Don’t make it seem like you’ve grown and changed, and this is your choice to burn bridges now – it’s not. I took that choice away from you a long time ago, by doing it myself. You didn’t like that much. You know why? It’s about power – and a part of you, even given your willful ignorance and blindness to reality recognized it. I took the choice away. I took the power away. And you know what? I haven’t looked back. Not once. I’m no longer the person I once was, when you imagined that you knew me back then. Not at all. I’m not insecure and blinded and puny and unwilling to face a fight. But I don’t see the point of fighting with someone you care nothing about, so I’m not interested. I don’t need to justify my actions, or explain myself or try to convince you why you’re wrong. I just don’t care anymore. Truthfully, I stopped caring, actually caring, a long while before you self-justified your own actions and came up with a ridiculous argument for truth that changed the course of things. I was afraid, then. Afraid to face the mirror without the comfort of the assurance that I would be okay. I’m over fear. I’m over you.
You were only viable in imagination. The reality was never as great as I imagined it to be. Your reality left a bitter taste – and a lot to be desired. I shared that reality for a time – only a time. And then it was done.
There are no bridges left for you to burn, love – and I took all the wood with me. You thought you left me.
But I wanted you to go.