Listening to anothers words is telling. A truth seeps through. Inside the words there is restriction, beyond the words, too. Any self-based motivation and intention is detected. The egos ploys and plots. I can feel them. The way the one tries to place his image on another to validate his own truth of existence. The way another tries to categorize an experience through cloaking a person in his own garments. It feels heavy to me, to be around someone who is attached to his own sense of self, his own sense of what is right. I feel attacked with daggers. Penetrated with judgment. It is not that my own identity is so fragile and in need of repair from the demons of the world; it is because my soul is tender to the ways of people blinded by their thoughts of superiority. I see others as equivalent to self, as equal. And so many times another wants to define me as more or less. Both disrupt my energy flow and energy purpose. Both make me momentarily stagnant, slipped inside the seams of anothers perspective, and bent into the shape of their doing. This isnt a defect or something I need to alter. This is. And I sit here wondering where these people go, so lost into themselves, that they can not find the truth of us.
Posted on: Wed, 23 Oct 2013 14:28:38 +0000
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