Security

You know what it is.  It’s an addiction, to an idea, mostly.  I know that we all strive for this thing, this concept, this object, considered a noun, but a thing none of us can touch… security.  It’s an idea, a concept, but its classified as a noun in this context. 

Me, I’m aware, of its lies, its fallacies, of the fact that security is like, a hope, a belief that the things we do will somehow protect the things we have from being taken from us, from losing them.  But I don’t believe that my actions serve as any real sort of protection from loss.  Most of the time, I don’t even believe in loss, but that’s just a belief anyhow, so who cares?  I don’t believe in security.  I think people who do are fucking blind, but then again, I’m sure people think I’m blind for some of the shit I believe in.  But there’s this one difference.. maybe.. I am fully aware that there is no proof to anything I believe.  I’ll never know if anything I believe in is true until the day I fucking die, if, and, at best, then, and only then.  I choose to believe in all I believe in because it’s the only choice I have, if I want to stay here...  I’ve too often, in my past, come too fucking close to the edge of that abyss and if, or maybe I should say while, I choose to stick around, I have to believe that there is something worth believing in, or hoping for.  Otherwise, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but Imma bounce the fuck out.  I feel also too often that I was born on the wrong fucking planet as it is.  And if all these little concepts, dreams, hope, even these pathetic little tasteless fantasies, truly are impossible, even for fleeting moments, then there is no fucking reason for me to be here.  And I can die with that, because for long enough, I’ve lived with it.  Hope is a foolish, and dangerous thing, but like any risk in this world, the rewards match the risk, and I’m (currently) willing to take that risk in hope, or belief, for that equally matching moment that I’ve seen in my dreams.  That moment that stretches like a photograph across something that resembles the meaning of my life.  As if I had something to say and was able to articulate it, and that defined my life, my existence, my heart, my souls love, out into this world.  Jesus, I hope this isn’t for nothing, what a waste all of this effort would have been…

“Don't open your eyes, you won't like what you see

The devils of truth steal the souls of the free

Don't open your eyes, take it from me

I have found you can find happiness is slavery

Don't open your eyes, you won't like what you see

The blind have been blessed with security

Don't open your eyes, take it from me

I have found you can find happiness is slavery

I don't know what I am, I don't know where I've been

Human junk just words and so much skin

Stick my hands thru the cage of this endless routine

Just some flesh caught in this big broken machine”

So, quoting Trent (thx), security, and those who search for it, strive for it, live for it, believing that what they’ve built wont be taken from them by investing in security, think it over, maybe, if only for a moment.   I say, for myself at least, embrace insecurity, be aware, take nothing for granted, hope, but do not believe that your actions, your efforts, are worth that much.  Nothing is trivial, but the heart has to speak through those actions in order for those actions to not matter if or when they’ve turned out to be fruitless.  I know the futility of all my actions, and how I choose to act bleeds from my heart, it literally bleeds.  So I have little to no regret when I act without any ambition.  I am an insecure person.  I admit this.  I am almost proud of it, actually, but I’ll waste little time on something as ignorant as pride.  I am also strong, but strength is rarely an answer to choices like these.  Strength is a tool.  Insecurity is real, its freedom, pure awareness, like the baby who relies so much on its environment.  We are weak, we need, we fool ourselves with our actions, with out aspirations, with our pride.  They’re all lies.  What’s real?  Listen to a grown man cry for his mommy when he’s lying, dying, bleeding to death with a knife, or a bullet, buried, in his belly.  Anything can happen, live, and act with heart, and no matter what happens, whatever you feel you lose, you’ll have no regret.  We value pride and we devalue insecurity.  Last I recalled, pride was one of the 7 deadly sins…  That shows how backwards our society is from the truth of our hearts.

One day, this may serve as a testament for the voice of my heart, my love, and all that these short years I’ve wandered have bled.  Its not so bad this way, even when it is.