Love

What do you do to deal with the inadequacy of every day life?

What can you do to deal with the fact you are isolated inside a body and will be so for the rest of your life?

I thought I saved myself from danger and my own temperament that loves tragedy and impossible loves but in reality I opened the door and stepped out of life. I left everything behind, and as the piano pours out one melody after the next, I watch life from behind the window like a beggar outside a busy restaurant. I watch everyone else eat and have a good time. I cannot enter because I don't fit. I never did. Or so I used to think.

The line that 'killed' me came from an excellent TV series called True Detective. It was about how each of us considers ourselves to be something more than a collection of biological urges. Each of us considers ourselves to be more real than the rest, each of us thinks that our perception and life is more real than other people's. And we are all the same, a pitiful bundle of flesh and urges wanting to go on and condemned to die. We crave reproduction and power even when we claim that our causes are noble, even when we dress our desires with a higher meaning.

I crave the sky. I crave death. I crave freedom. I crave life. I crave godhood like the protagonist of 'Perfume'.

I am a bloody idiot.

I am no different than anyone else, just better at deceiving myself. Smarter than most, enough to muddle my thinking with my own mind games. I have exiled love from my life and feel comfortably numb, empty and safe, unfulfilled and manic. Yet I go on. I despise my own biology for condemning me to these urges because I have glimpsed something else, bigger, better, different. And at the same time I realise just how silly I am to despise something that is perfectly innocent, my body. And also because what I have glimpsed may be nothing else but Love. Love as in everlasting Love, that we try to bring down to our human size and try to live it as best as we could, reducing it and twisting it to something we can understand.

When the protagonist of True Detective briefly crossed over what he found was Love.

I am almost there. Almost at the point of understanding.

Almost at breaking point, where everything will make sense once more.

All I need is to take one more step, even if I have to crawl.

Open the door again, even if my hands are shaking and I am absolutely terrified.

Welcome back to the game.

Welcome back now that you know how everything is connected.

Breathe. You are safe.

Just breathe. The rest will follow.