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Black Spots

Life is as beautiful when you’re at peace as it is furious when you lose faith. Its ecstasy is as powerful, streaming lighting up your spine and throughout your body, as its desolation and dejection is tearing, pouring rain down on your heart and on your soul. Why we all choose to hurt people sometimes when or if we can is each of our own personal reasons or inability to reason. And something that is true to most people I think and definitely increasing with time is that most people don’t remember what people say or what people do as much, people will remember how you make them feel.

You get to that point in your life and hopefully it reoccurs, when you ask yourself, where are we going? What do we want? You reason with yourself to incorporate what the bests of today are in your thoughts, who’s most useful, who’s bringing out the best in me, who do I want to trust the most… etc. We sometimes forget the details. The precious moments of doubt and pain, the precious triumphs of strength and perspective; the leaps of faith we took when we were even younger, the trust we learned, and the betrayals that stick with us; every one of those little moments that continue to build throughout your entire life should come with us when we try to find out what we want out of any situation or circumstance; what were the first unfiltered dreams you had?

We get to that point in our life when we stop going the extra mile for the people we might think aren’t worth it. We stop working with the people we consider or decide for ourself aren’t up to snuff. We label the people from our childhoods that we find replaceable, and we replace them. We find the real friends who last through anything and we gain less interest in the ones who are just scenery to get high, drunk, et cetera with. We start asking ourselves is this or are they worth our energy. And although our understanding seems to grow with time, we lose patience for those who we choose not to understand. Sometime we may even shun those we don’t have the capacity to understand. How did they actually make me feel? People do things all the time or are a certain way that we don’t understand and our instinct is to be uncomfortable about it. Our instinct more often than not, is to reject or refuse it. Rarely we force asking ourselves where are they coming from, what’s going on with them. Rarely do we go out of our way to embrace that which we don’t understand, or that which takes us out of our comfort zone… we know the feeling, and we leave. The relationship ends, whatever assets leave, the potential dissipates; If there are memories, they’re either tarnished or they lose their value. All that remains is subjective judgment and the last bad memory, or worse. We all have those black spots in our life that make our world grow a little smaller, and see a little less. On occasion, we make a process asking ourselves are they sorry at all? why are they doing this? what did I ever do to ask for this? And sometimes people do feel sorry, sometimes people do wish they had done things differently, sometimes people do have regrets. Sometimes we do “miss out,” sometimes we don’t see all that could be, shit, sometimes we flat out fucking fail; ourselves, and too often each other. We all interpret and inherit things differently, and now days, the hip topic of discussion is not letting someone else win, or which person gave fewer fucks. But does all that stuff matter? In the end, every question matters, because that was what was important to us at that time. But when we come across any black spot in our life, the last question that we ask that’s always going to ultimately matter is, how much of a mark is it? Is there a stain? And if so, how should we clean it? And the way things go, the more you care, “the more fucks you give,” the more of a mess that can be made, but on the contrary by reducing that mess, or by reducing life down to winning and losing, you also reduce what could be had, what could be seen, what could be made. How we dictate our life, the decisions we make, it’s damn near impossible not accumulate a bit of a mess, and who’s to say how we go about cleaning it or trying to avoid it… seems illogical and counterproductive to add to the plate when life is already trying enough. It’s more efficient, and probably less costly as well to get yours, and get out while you can. …So long as it’s satisfactory not getting to taste what could be. And life, in its vast array of moments and flavors, should never be capped. There is no policy on living. If there is, it’s the wrong one. Believe me, it’s irresponsible to cause there to be less (out of Life), and not to ask for more. …What could be. What could be. What could be. …It’s always worth it. Don’t stop looking.

Life teaches us what is important. Whether we want to show up to let it know how important, is up to us. The thing about all of us, we never know with each other. We always want to think we do, but we don’t. Typically a lot of the time we just do what is easiest for us to pass the time, which is not to rethink and revisit certain decisions or determinations we made, particularly pertaining to each other, even though humans are blatantly wrong A LOT of the time. We all have those black spots, and maybe some of us are more stained than others, but personally some of those black spots have taught me a lot about what I know of myself, and I thank them for that. Maybe somewhere there’s a stain ready to be washed. We’re all people. We all have to go through this world. Nobody is ever alone. We just have to decide whether we want to be someone that adds another dark spot, or someone that’s ready to clean. And maybe, maybe somewhere along the way there’ll be those and that which make us and allow us to see, just a little bit MORE…