It’s hard to picture a state of mind that navigates between highly spaced opposing shores. There’s no clear view, no single route to follow. You don’t actually choose one but rather attempt to cope with whichever you’re being dealt with. Any choice might end up an unlucky deed.
Judging from my own experience, I feel stretched between the immaculate gentleness of grace and a more wild-hearted perspective of hatred. The problem is I can’t control their scale, nor their frequency. And no aftermath would ever escape my notice, each of them leaving a heavy imprint, like a running issue that feeds my mind’s dirty pool.
To consider a single encounter as a permanent foundation is an idea I’ve never learned to encompass.
I’m pretty sure it’s hard to temper the outcome of my vagaries, to understand them in the scope of a relationship, whether friendly or intimate. And I’m not inclined to face them scarcely because I believe the remedy to carry one’s radical notice and a reckless attitude.
Perhaps the challenge of my life is to measure the hostility of my duality, seize it, and overcome its perennity, to eventually yield love, balanced, blessed, and beautiful.