It is the people we hold onto that hold onto us. As we shake people off, we too are shaken off. Maybe it is through this process of simultaneous release that we find ourselves alone. Like the layers of a snakes’ skin we shed each other, find others to hang on to, find others to hang on to us. Slowly and evenly picking the weight that keeps us closer to whatever form of balance we need to tell ourselves that we are growing. That progress is happening. Or even that we are at peace with whatever form of stagnation we have chosen.
Maybe this is why they say you are alone in the end. Having lost all energy to hold on to anything, the things you hold on to begin to let go of you. It is in this isolation that we are to find peace. To be still and within ourselves, but even this peace is something that we hold on to. And in losing our grip we lose that too.
How does one take care of needy concepts?
Do you wait until they find themselves disproven? Or do we bury them in the past. Find a little corner somewhere in the maze of our mind and shove them there. Do we recognize when we come up against them? Do we see the pieces of ourselves that we have violently shoved aside as we violently shove them aside?
“So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”
- Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby
Is it then that we constant lay and unlay traps for ourselves? Circling around the same spot, trying to gain enough momentum to throw us of tangent at such a high velocity that by the time we finally discover ourselves we are unlike ourselves. Then maybe this distance daunts us. As if we somehow knew we were going in circles (despite talking about progress). As if we have been betrayed by this false truth that we encounter. As if the mirror we left to hold to ourselves refuses to show us the image we want to see. And so forward we go, to go back.
There you are.
Ain’t that s
Ain’t that so
Ain’t that some shit.