Selfishness, Perhaps

0 0 0
                                    

5/11/2020

This world ebbs and flows in its own way.
And I can make neither head nor tail of it.

I wonder what the right way is.
I don't know what I'm doing anymore. And I am. . . Afraid.
It wasn't so long ago that I was praying for salvation. I had hoped and prayed that maybe I could go on in this world just a little longer.

I wanted to live. . .
I wanted to be strong. . .
For them. . . For the ones that I loved. . .

I prayed for my stubbornness to win and be renewed. Hmph. . .
For some reason I keep clinging desperately to this life. To this wretched existence.
And perhaps the ones that I fight for- the precious ones that give me the strength to continue to beg for stubbornness- maybe I. . .
Maybe I think they're worth it.

But I will tell you a secret. A secret that only my own mind holds dear.
I fear that perhaps my stubbornness will secretly be their downfall. All of the strength that I beg for in order to endure for them. . . Is it not selfishness at its core?

To want to live for these people. . . To wish for the strength to continue fighting for them. . . Somehow in my mind it feels as if it's making them the focal point of my reality. It's as if I'm creating central objects of karmic destiny for my own well being.

I want them here to keep giving me strength. But is that the choice they would want? Where does the line between love and dependence draw itself?
I wonder if perhaps this need that I have for these people around me is only as good as my own well being.
When they no longer serve the purpose of keeping me happy. . . Of giving me "strength". . .
Will their importance cease to exist?
I wonder. . .

How long will this facąde continue. . .
How much of it is truth?
How much is rooted in the fiction of my mind?

My own desires. . .
I wonder how long it will be before I can distinguish between the things I truly care about, and the things that have only passing importance?

And will I be able to tell the difference without destroying myself or losing something that is truly precious to me?

Diary of Idle Madness, PerhapsWhere stories live. Discover now