I am craving a return to simplicity and to stillness. Maybe not even stillness, but a quietness. It's that time again where the less I talk, the better I feel. There is so much noise out there: so many images, opinions, feelings, complications to confront. Pain that society says you need to ~process~. But I don't know about that. Sometimes I think you just need to be quiet for a while and stop trying to look inside, stop trying to verbalise it, analyse everything to death. The answers come when they're ready, you know. They always do.
( Is it really a metaphor? )
a letter to myself, Alec Burns
August 17 2022
I thought for the longest time that things meant more than their gesture. But I was wrong. People speak and that is all they are. there's no such thing as depth. At least I can't peer deep down and see what people choose not to show.
All I see when i look inside is a reflection. Little bits of myself layed bare - twisting as if they are someone else's pain. If I keep looking for the metaphors ill continue to be torn apart: I will never be able to see people as they are.
My capacity to love is melded with my fears, my hate, and my pain. I realize that now. But I also realize that all there is in life are those tiny gestures. Ones that aren't so loud. Like the turn of someone's palm. Or the moment when yellows glow along someone's skin - and I see. I really see "it"!
People are as they are for all their simplicity.
And so, and so what? So now - I hunger for life again. For the simplest and happiest life. Where people come to me as they are and I see them for that.