Everyone, please click the link below and read this essay I found on the internet. If this doesn't move you to tears, I don't know what will. It's a cold fucking world out there-yet some pull themselves up from the bottom despite what they've been through.
Please, read it.
click here
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
The Sound of a Sweet Song...Fading Away in the Distance
If you ask me what I like most about a romantic encounter, I would tell you it is the element of surprise. When you meet someone new, it is like hearing a beautiful song for the first time. You have no idea what the future holds, but you long to have that feeling last for all of eternity. There is what Barack Obama calls the audacity of hope, but I think what drives us the most is the unknown. We have absolutely no idea what the future holds for us...if it holds anything at all.
I know the warm feeling of both hearing that sweet song for the first time and having the audacity to hope. They are synonymous. You remember where you were, what you were doing, and why. I recently heard a song that touched me in that way. I won't share with you the title...perhaps because I fear the retribution that comes with being so exposed and open to public scrutiny. But suffice it to say that for a brief moment in time, I felt that feeling again. And then I began to notice how empty life can be when you don't share it with someone special. Sure, I feel safe cocooned away in my enclave-door locked and the world on the outside. But what should be obvious to most, and what is hardcore evidentiary fact to me, is that I've all but eliminated the audacity of hope in exchange for the comfort of security.
I haven't always been this cautious. Once I dared allow myself to love someone society deemed undesirable. In my estimation, I felt that she too deserved love and who better to love her than someone who understands the devotion required to make love a successful function of a romantic schema? I allowed myself to love her in spite of what others thought. Not only did I expose myself to the perils of love, I accepted all the punishment that one endures when they choose to love someone who does not feel that they deserve to be loved. I still bear the open wounds and battle scars that one acquires when one decides to put down their sword; their shield; their armor; and dare to hope for the best, but accept the worse. And I am a better man because of it.
Love demands so much of us, and most of us fail because we don't fully understand that, unless we acquiesce to those demands, failure is inevitable. But acquiescence alone brings not the promise of success; for the possibility of love unrequited always lurks in the shadows. With so many pitfalls before us, why do we choose to embark upon the quest for love? Simply put, it is the audacity of hope, and whether we choose to acknowledge it or not, hope is audacious. But what would life be without the excitement that comes along with the prospect of risk and reward? In a word, boring.
So here I sit, writing about the possibilities associated with hope, and faith, and belief-yet, I am too fearful to set foot on that path again. I know intimately the company of failure, and I don't know if I'm prepared for yet another visit. I think that I will take refuge within the walls of my fortified fortress, while time robs me of all the gifts necessary to find that perfect love. I no longer see hope when I look into the eyes of women who look upon me with that odd curiosity that once warmed my heart-I know all too well how the story ends. Perhaps I've been here too long. Perhaps I know too much. I try desperately not to sound pessimistic, but I know that I have neither the patience nor the endurance to devote that which is necessary to rewrite the script so that the story ends happily. Such undertakings should only be embraced in the realm of fiction. But in the world of reality, at least for me, what remains are the hard lessons of my past and the pain of watching hope evaporate like morning dew at high noon. One thing I know for sure is that nothing lasts forever. But even though I may be armed with such sage wisdom, I find it ever so difficult to move beyond the walls of this prison I've created for myself. And as I watch life pass me by, I sit immobilized by the wisdom granted me by my past experiences, as the light of hope that once shone so brightly fades away into the distance, like so many of my fond memories of love.
TPOKW
I know the warm feeling of both hearing that sweet song for the first time and having the audacity to hope. They are synonymous. You remember where you were, what you were doing, and why. I recently heard a song that touched me in that way. I won't share with you the title...perhaps because I fear the retribution that comes with being so exposed and open to public scrutiny. But suffice it to say that for a brief moment in time, I felt that feeling again. And then I began to notice how empty life can be when you don't share it with someone special. Sure, I feel safe cocooned away in my enclave-door locked and the world on the outside. But what should be obvious to most, and what is hardcore evidentiary fact to me, is that I've all but eliminated the audacity of hope in exchange for the comfort of security.
I haven't always been this cautious. Once I dared allow myself to love someone society deemed undesirable. In my estimation, I felt that she too deserved love and who better to love her than someone who understands the devotion required to make love a successful function of a romantic schema? I allowed myself to love her in spite of what others thought. Not only did I expose myself to the perils of love, I accepted all the punishment that one endures when they choose to love someone who does not feel that they deserve to be loved. I still bear the open wounds and battle scars that one acquires when one decides to put down their sword; their shield; their armor; and dare to hope for the best, but accept the worse. And I am a better man because of it.
Love demands so much of us, and most of us fail because we don't fully understand that, unless we acquiesce to those demands, failure is inevitable. But acquiescence alone brings not the promise of success; for the possibility of love unrequited always lurks in the shadows. With so many pitfalls before us, why do we choose to embark upon the quest for love? Simply put, it is the audacity of hope, and whether we choose to acknowledge it or not, hope is audacious. But what would life be without the excitement that comes along with the prospect of risk and reward? In a word, boring.
So here I sit, writing about the possibilities associated with hope, and faith, and belief-yet, I am too fearful to set foot on that path again. I know intimately the company of failure, and I don't know if I'm prepared for yet another visit. I think that I will take refuge within the walls of my fortified fortress, while time robs me of all the gifts necessary to find that perfect love. I no longer see hope when I look into the eyes of women who look upon me with that odd curiosity that once warmed my heart-I know all too well how the story ends. Perhaps I've been here too long. Perhaps I know too much. I try desperately not to sound pessimistic, but I know that I have neither the patience nor the endurance to devote that which is necessary to rewrite the script so that the story ends happily. Such undertakings should only be embraced in the realm of fiction. But in the world of reality, at least for me, what remains are the hard lessons of my past and the pain of watching hope evaporate like morning dew at high noon. One thing I know for sure is that nothing lasts forever. But even though I may be armed with such sage wisdom, I find it ever so difficult to move beyond the walls of this prison I've created for myself. And as I watch life pass me by, I sit immobilized by the wisdom granted me by my past experiences, as the light of hope that once shone so brightly fades away into the distance, like so many of my fond memories of love.
TPOKW
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