April 16, 2011

Keep the right one out

We listen to broadcast war stories, rapt, but we don't hear the same things. There's a massacre masquerading as a revolution several continents away and all I can think about is how awareness does not a concerned citizen make. It's battle talk from box seats, disaster procrastination. Does any of this even effect you? and I'm back at square one.
You asked me that and ever since I said nothing in response, pretending I wasn't listening to you, I can't help but feel some form of crushing embarrassment every time I am compelled to express any kind of genuine emotion, spurned by intellectual guilt. It's a eulogy every time.

Because I've never felt a real love without a tinge of its poison. If I knew how to really care without painstaking obsession, I would. If I could give a damn without letting it possess me, I might try that too. Because the answer is and always has been yes, everything and entirely. I don't know how to tell you about that.
We must be more judicious in the things we let effect us. Otherwise how are we to know what to mean? How can we defend ourselves? Maybe at a certain point that becomes irrelevant, but there's only so much blood in a body.

I don't worry about anticipating an apocalypse-- you can be confident in its impending abilities. You can wait all you want for the world to end but in the meanwhile, you might just catch on to how impatient the world is for you to end already.


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