When i was younger, and when i still believed in the things this world could offer, reality, as how it presented itself to me was nothing short of despicable.
if the man left his beloved for one other more attractive, more popular, i found him weak. oh, so very weak.
what ideals did he have, really, that he would yield to such deception that this hedonistic world could offer? what principles did he hold in his possession? was he so lonely, so forlorn, so easily wavered, like a pathetic weed flailing in the breeze only to detach from its stem and fly astray?
i would reassure myself over and over that i was hard like an iron rod. i took the high road. i cruised by in my large truck, bearing no heed to these weak, weak, failures of which i swore i would play no part.
in so deciding the paths of my life, i brought upon myself a lot of pain. i ruminated why beings acted as such, so meek they were, so ready to disappoint. i invited to my home loneliness and i took it by its horns. i skipped town, to walk in bare feet. alone. i danced in an empty apartment. i took my pain to build my own little fort.
i played no part in mindless gossip that would hurt another. i was a faithful lover. i was a distant yearner. i went about my own way.
strong as i may have been the world has not altered the way that i envisioned. things remained all the same.
the tears i cried in my attempts of accumulated strength did not diminish the relativity of the unchanged world that inevitably enveloped me.
somewhere along that line i yielded. i yielded to being weak. i left my fort, walking away from it.
this world we live in, so insidious, it's hard. nobody really tells you that they're weak. when a man sleeps with a beautiful woman, he emerges victorious but he is limp at the core; internally he deals with the haunting image of the woman he loved that had gone before.
the world sees victory, they don't see it for how it really is. it's easy to be deluded--that accomplishment is victory, when truly, it could be all but a coping mechanism embellished in gold and served on a silver platter.
i let myself leave my fort, because i too am human.
and i'm calling it out, for what it really is--a hard life, an impaired reality.
.jpg)