Wednesday, March 9, 2011

to love less




i'm stalling. yup, i'm totally stalling.

i think i've been looking at the cursor blinking for at least a minute or two.

certain topics are more challenging than others.

well, i've been writing and taking pics but not for the blog recently. just for me. just processing. i needed that. to have time to write with no filters and no fear of recriminations. i've been processing many o' many things in my self-imposed solitude. about paths to take and not take.
certain days have been better than others. on the not so great days, things like broken glass seem much more than broken glass....

which make me even more annoyed at know....for looking at broken glass and assigning metaphors to it. then, even better....getting annoyed at being annoyed. after this particular unnecessarily drama-laden moment, i made a cocktail....

one that i'm actually sipping on right now actually. i do enjoy experimenting with the candied peels and the fruit syrups from june taylor. this one is the spiced pear fruit syrup which goes quite well with the bourbon.

as i'm sipping on this cocktail, i've thinking about how difficult it can be to stop caring about someone. perhaps, oddly enough, given that i'm a rather cynical asshole, one would think that it is actually easy for someone like me to figure out how to care less about someone. you know, someone like me who is rather super duper analytical, overly logical, and right-brain driven. yet, not so much. there is one person mentioned....the loyalty factor. at the time, i wanted to hit them and say "i am not a fucking dog"....but i didn't, because i am...i am very loyal to those that i love.

so imagine my quandary.

how do you love someone you love.... less?

this whole caring less about someone has more angles than a never ending prism. in the midst of it all i'm still rather pragmatic. it isn't about avoiding regret...because there will be. it isn't about avoiding hurt...because there is....and will be. for better or worse, i take responsibility for my actions.

the conflicting emotions make taking a path towards loving less quite difficult though.

it depend on the week, day...or even moment.

the are moments when i am harshly angry and everybody....but myself mostly...because WTF...i am supposedly an intelligent adult that has been known to kick some serious ass.....i am not suppose to be a whiny moony wimpy ass...

then there are moments when i feel my pride creep in......

then there are moments that i fantasize about fighting.

for the first time, i finally understand why people will provoke instigate something extremely negative to provide the excuse to walk away.

yet, i can't and won't do that. the deliberate hurting of someone i care about goes against my too well programed ethos for me to change.

but i totally get why it happens now.

then there are moments when i finding myself writing candid diatribes. in an effort to move along the emotional distance that seems to elude me for the first time in my entire life....

>>diatribe begins>>>>>>>>>>>>

do you wander down the street and wonder if you are dreaming?
there is this numbness, this feeling of being an outside observer in your own life, this distance to what is suppose to be your life.
then you remember that you are awake because you don't dream anymore.

do you seek the frankly psychotic fuck on the chance that feeling that spark of anger danger is better than feeling numb?
then when it is over, your blanket of solace is the contempt....for both of you.
you tell yourself that feeling contempt "is better than feeling nothing" but you don't believe it.

are you tempted to lose yourself in the lullaby of more than one bourbon, one scotch, and one beer?
not to feel alive. because it makes you care less that you don't.

are you drawn to the youthful winsome smiles? for now to be adored for your seeming illusionary elderly wisdom? that perhaps to bask in the momentary halo will inspire you to become that hero that you see in their naivete-filled eyes.
yet, as you watch the light change from admiration to cynicism, you realize that you have moved no where, done nothing different, and rather than being wise, they think you are old.

you are looking outside of yourself. you are running from yourself.

you are running from that person you used to be, the person that used to dream.

when did you forget how to dream?

when did you forget how to hope?

when did you blind and bind yourself?

when did you give up on passion?

when did you lose your courage to try?

i see you. i see your struggles. i see the walls, the defenses, the trenches.

i see your disappointment. i see your hurt. i see it all.

even if you don't want me to. even as you push me away.

dare i say, scream, and taunt you with the words....

"i believe in you"

i believe that you will get tired of this rather indulgent hole that you have climbed into and the blinders you have placed upon yourself.

because, as much as you hate it, i know you. because i have known you. because no matter where i am, i will always know you.

i know that the true sparks of courage, hope, inspiration, and passion are there.

dormant. hibernating. hiding.

those sparks have not been carelessly snuffed because they are a part of who you are.

i believe that there will be a day when the passionate sheen in your eyes will return, where the excitement of life and its potential will be in each of your steps, where your sense of purpose once again be settled into your bones, and provide you with the confidence to not be afraid to live. once more.

while i may not be there to see it happen, i have a tenable faith that it will.

>>>diatribe ends>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

then there are moments like right now.

when i am sad. when i am disappointed. when i flinch as i try to give myself permission to give up on someone and break a promise. when i remember that i actually have a heart because i can feel it folding into i sip on my cocktail looking out on night time buzz of my street....and think that it is just time.... time to stop mistreating me.


Chelsea said...

OK, my heart's a little broken now. I think I need some of that bourbon with spiced pear syrup!

BEAUTIFUL writing by the way.

foodie hunter said...

heya. thanks much for reading...and for the kind words. means a lot to me. what a way to start the morning huh? :) sending hugs your way...