The world is such a funny place. You are born, then you die, and somewhere in the middle of that you strive to make some meaning of it.
You’ll have fun moments, some lesser than others, and you’ll have moments more sorrowful than others.
And along the way, you find some other lonely souls that try to make this period special. And that can mean a lot of things. It could mean something nice. Happy, even. A sense of temporary euphoria that is understandably worth living for.
And there will be those who make you question the point of it all. The way that I see it, you seem to attach yourself to people and hope that they’re a good enough anchor to keep you sane. A place that you won’t regret leaving a piece of your heart. I find that more and more I find fragments of my affection scattered amongst the people I surround myself with. And there are times when I don’t doubt for a second that it is exactly where they’re supposed to be. Or…you cry.
You sob internally when you realise that there are some pieces that you’ll never get back, and it starts an endless pour of ache that might never stop.
All you can really hope for is that someone will come along and stop it. But that doesn’t seem realistic. Sometimes there’s really not much you can do to stint a waterfall of pain. Maybe all you can do is wait and see if you can soothe the splashes on the bottom into little flutters of puddles.
I’d like to think that I am just a waterfall, and that life is just an endless stream of suffering. But in that outbreak of natural waters there is an unsurmountable beauty to behold. We all bask within each other’s flow of suffering, and for that moment you are connected. You are completely absorbed within one another and there is a comfort of being connected. And that’s all you need. A presence to be there and feel the impact of emotion crashing down and down and down.
We are infinite; but only together.