Sometimes I feel like an alien for my lack of ambition in this merciless millennium where it feels like everyone else is seeking something that I can’t even comprehend. Maybe I understood it once upon a time, when I thought I too would one day set the world on fire and those fiery flames would be all that mattered. Now I don’t really know what matters and what doesn’t in the slightest. The limits of human intention and control is immense, if you can believe it. Needs and Wants become insignificant when you gain enough perspective to place the preferences of others in front of your own desires.
I guess it’s true that you could have been grateful for something all along, but that doesn’t matter that when it disappears, that it was to spite you. Sometimes everything is so wonderful it seems infinite, you don’t know how something so pure couldn’t possibly not last forever ( double negative ???! ). Does that even make sense? Thinking about how fragile a feeling is, it frightens me. I’ve always been so wholly ingrained in all of my feelings, believing they could eclipse everything. That somehow my feelings know more than I do. That they’re a million times more intuitive than I could ever be. Maybe that’s where I’m going wrong. I think I need to stop believing that what I live for is also worth dying for.
Everything’s fine, but sometimes it’s so fine that it’s not fine because you can’t pinpoint what’s making you cry. I guess I shouldn’t forget that silver sparkles too, and second best might as well be first place because you learn so much more along the way. J’ai peur, un peu, I don’t know why.
x, A
