An allegory ..
Breathless and saturated, running through fields of restless love, she awoke to find herself dismally pleasured by the lack of it. She awoke to find that she was not there, that she was nowhere and surrounded by fields of desert. She fought to close her eyes to abandon the starkness of dank reality, but found her fixated eyes frozen to the vision on the wall. Breathless, she stared into the heat of her body, running faster – faster into an oblivion she’d seen before. She felt her eyes bloodshot, as they immersed themselves into envisioning a corridor in the distance and pushing, pushing herself to reach it. Her body ran and ran – and with every push, the corridor continued to move forward just a bit more each time, just out of reach. She became fixated, determined to see it through but the more she plowed forward, the further the doorway. Legs scarred and bleeding by the unfriendliness of standing thorns in the brush, her pace did not let up. She was determined. And in the chill of aloneness, her eyes solemnly closed.
So, I’m in the process of writing reflections for chapter closings for the third book in my series, entitled “Pulse.” While all of the books I’ve written in this series examine the human condition from its secular attachments to its mystical risings, I must admit that I am a bit perplexed about certain things at this point of philosophizing. The benediction of understanding the pulse of why and how is not the riddle, but rather, understanding the throb of considering misery an asylum is questionable. Breathing in the fumes of what was as a replacement for oxygen, abandoning the torch of self-preservation for the continuance of dilapidation and the decision to forsake happiness for a perpetual ride through doom is boggling.
There are certain elements to the human condition that cloak even the best intended misunderstandings. There’s the self-mourning attribution that purposefully neglects another’s decency. There’s the ignorance of providence that permeates a concocted feebleness of existence thereby intentionally forcing another away. And, there’s the state of self-émigré that refuses to relinquish its injustice.
It is just so unfortunate that the epoch of woe overburdens, at times, the rhythm of buoyancy. I suppose I will find the answer to this riddle as I delve further into writing. Should make for some very interesting chapter closings, I would think.
There are moments in one’s life when finding the way to move forward stymies even the most agile of travelers. There are times when life’s peculiarities seem to perplex even the most seasoned of intellectuals. There are instances where the walls of despair erect themselves so high that climbing over them wearies even the most strongest willed of us all. Where every day preaches only yesterday’s dereliction and where tomorrows lay chained to the hell of today’s doom.
Tangible afflictions burden the mind with unstoppable pangs of gloom, while intangible woes haunt the heart with perpetual grief. Whether these circumstances plague us separately or in tandem, one thing is for certain and that is, that either carries with it the infinite ability to cause every ounce of our very existence to blench from launching to the grounds we are meant to travel. A burdened heart may fear loving again thereby missing out on the plentiful bounty of happiness. A bout with poverty may preclude one from enjoyment or worse, from knowing of worthiness or deservedness. Whichever the designate, the common element is prevalent, and that is, that whatever the circumstance you are facing, it is only that, a circumstance.
One main artery of dealing with circumstances is looking at life as a series of very flavorful situations. Some good flavors, some not so good. However, in order to achieve, to sustain and to thrive, you must taste all of the flavors to know the difference. It is unfortunate that some of the disgusting flavors seem to linger far longer than they are welcomed. However, when you taste of a good one that lingers, it far exceeds the logic of the less desired taste and ultimately, you forget that the disgusting flavors ever even touched of your lip.
So, even though you may be experiencing some moments that taste far less than desirable, remember the pleasurable flavors and strive to taste of them again.
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