The Important Things
I’m so tired. It’s just living that wears me out. Living without what I consider the important things. Stuff like honesty, soul searching and sharing our inner truths. Things like intimacy, love, true passion; not just the need to scratch an itch or satisfy a primal instinct to procreate. Fulfillment through the tactile and the transfer of energies when we truly harmonize between bodies.
Deep, meaningful, honest communication is on the endangered list. It’s not that some aren’t willing, it’s that there is nothing deep going on to talk about. Shallow, superficial, insincere, artificial and pre-programmed blabber is all we have developed and encouraged, so it’s all most are capable of offering. I find it all quite boring, and my interest wanes within seconds.
We offer attention to many with the constant chats, texts, pics and quotes. None of it means anything, and honestly, it’s just a distraction from our misery. It’s not true attention or love offered to someone else, it’s just us, scratching that itch. It’s us wanting attention, but not truly caring about another. It’s calling our need, love, but it’s just need, and needy and more than anything, I find it another energy drain. I find it the opposite of what I crave, and the antithesis of what I consider the important things.
By my age I see all the facades and fake smiles for what they truly are. We are all praised for the insignificant and productivity, as if anything we do now, will matter once we are dead. We worship the exteriors until that is all anyone presents. There is nothing past the skin, and the mask we paint on for the world to view.
We are with the wrong people, and then use hypothetical and cyber relationships to make ourselves feel better, when all the while, we are being frauds in our real lives. Staying with people who aren’t enough, or are so mentally ill they should be in lock up, but we make excuses for them, and continue to reward the wrong minutia.
Our jar should be full of boulders of love and transparent intimacy, but instead it’s full of a million grains of petty triviality. We are shut down, depressed frauds with little to zero true fulfillment in our lives. Our sex drives are miniscule and our bodies numb from it all being wrong.
Most of us aren’t gender confused, and we don’t question our sexuality, but we are all in the closet nevertheless. We deny ourselves until all the desire vanishes, then we feel better because we are tired, numb, preoccupied with all that minutia, and exhausted from surviving in the wrong life with the wrong people, in the wrong place. We suffer and are proud that we can still carry on, and nobody knows how tortured we really feel.
We are all on the brink of tears, but we bite our lower lips and wait for validation that productivity and denial of one’s true self is the way to present. We never share our inner truths and we are never real, raw or vulnerable. We are all too abused by the mentally ill to allow the facades to drop long enough to make a heart connection. The previous traumas at the hands of the many, are not what we wish to revisit.
So, we close it all off and even before we are dead, we are dust and ashes. Our lights are out and our flames extinguished. Our souls don’t shine. When, all the while, what we needed, was only to open our hearts and our souls to the possibility we aren’t trapped in a matrix created for the fakes and frauds. We needed to focus on different, “Important Things.”