I wish I could write what I think; how I feel and reflect upon the world and circumstances that surrounds me, in a way I intend. But it seems I lost that ability a long time ago. In an age when I was still as young as my years. The time I've lived seem to have little effect on who I'd like to be yet it rules who I am. And what I am is lonely. I feel my thoughts, but I can't reach them. I want to make myself a part of the people around me, but no matter how hard I try to see how they think and feel, and how to play along with that, it will always be just what it is. A game, I don't know how to play. We're incomplete, and how could we ever be more.
Thing is, I've always found people rather easy in their nature, but at the same time very hard to understand. We are so much alike, yet there's so many levels on how we can be different. But we have a tendency to view those differences by way of lack of communication, and by feeding our own projections of how we think a person is or should be; instead of regarding those differences as means to progress in our ever so tricky coexistence.
I can see how others enter the stage of social theater, how well or how badly they play the part of a fellow human. I can point out certain lacks and profoundness's in their behavior, but as soon as it's my turn to enter that same stage, the script in my hands too turns out to be just that. A script is lifeless without the insight and empathy of the actor. It's phrases sit dull and dreary on the page while offering a world of wonder and spectacular play; for those who knows how to read it. And I find myself reading the same lines without much change in any rehearsal.
It seems the destiny of the poet; the quiet observer to stay unwitting of the actual underlines of the act. We write and we make our own meanings and means, and as true as they are on that sheet in the overall manual, we'll never reach the stand of the actor; who knows the rules and how to play by them. Knowing the rules but not the plot can be managed by improvise. Knowing the plot but not the rules can get you into a lot of trouble.
Humans can be dreary and dull, but I equally believe that that is a projection we put upon our selves. Our faults define us as it is part of how we unite. Our irrationality is beautiful in it's enactment of us reaching out to each other. We unite in the silly craziness of our feelings.
The secret is not reading the script by it's words but by it's meanings. You read it how you feel like reading it. When you can see the plot unfold in a senseless firework of your own truth, winding others into the flame of the wondrous spectacle; when you reach out in silly craziness, the irrational finding a way to live and to love our uneven staggering towards each other, might start to allow you the miracle
of letting another person's silly staggerings be the object of your love.
Thing is, I've always found people rather easy in their nature, but at the same time very hard to understand. We are so much alike, yet there's so many levels on how we can be different. But we have a tendency to view those differences by way of lack of communication, and by feeding our own projections of how we think a person is or should be; instead of regarding those differences as means to progress in our ever so tricky coexistence.
I can see how others enter the stage of social theater, how well or how badly they play the part of a fellow human. I can point out certain lacks and profoundness's in their behavior, but as soon as it's my turn to enter that same stage, the script in my hands too turns out to be just that. A script is lifeless without the insight and empathy of the actor. It's phrases sit dull and dreary on the page while offering a world of wonder and spectacular play; for those who knows how to read it. And I find myself reading the same lines without much change in any rehearsal.
It seems the destiny of the poet; the quiet observer to stay unwitting of the actual underlines of the act. We write and we make our own meanings and means, and as true as they are on that sheet in the overall manual, we'll never reach the stand of the actor; who knows the rules and how to play by them. Knowing the rules but not the plot can be managed by improvise. Knowing the plot but not the rules can get you into a lot of trouble.
Humans can be dreary and dull, but I equally believe that that is a projection we put upon our selves. Our faults define us as it is part of how we unite. Our irrationality is beautiful in it's enactment of us reaching out to each other. We unite in the silly craziness of our feelings.
The secret is not reading the script by it's words but by it's meanings. You read it how you feel like reading it. When you can see the plot unfold in a senseless firework of your own truth, winding others into the flame of the wondrous spectacle; when you reach out in silly craziness, the irrational finding a way to live and to love our uneven staggering towards each other, might start to allow you the miracle
of letting another person's silly staggerings be the object of your love.
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