Post by Cobalt Mailman on Feb 19, 2009 21:17:12 GMT -6
This is the 'personal Essay' I wrote for my GCB entry this year.
Truth of the Telling
I know I talk about truths an awful lot, but it’s something that I do because I have to, in some way, pretend like I can understand -and thus weather- the experiences that I find most trying. I try to illustrate to myself the reason for my pain, and through this knowledge maybe gain some semblance of preparation for the next razing. I have come this time to a conclusion -rather than a truth- nay, a definition.
The words ‘I Love You’ were to me, and are to others, a promise. They are a commitment to steadfastness, and an insurance policy for those who are afraid of losing what they’ve put their time and energy into growing. Love --The most expensive of Vices!
I have come to the realization that the words are just that: Words. They carry the meaning associated with them only for the instant that they are said. They hold no power of thoughts feelings or actions of the next twenty-four hour period even, or even the next twenty-four minutes.
This applies for all words in the language we speak. They hold only the power to destroy and to deceive, with the subtle ability to engender makeshift hope and delicate pride, that once embraced lead to still more pain and animosity.
There are no good words to say to quell love lost. And there are no words to mend the broken heart. Only the thoughts; beliefs; timeless healing factor that was breathed into us by our creator can give words any meaning beyond the insidious present. Words without emotion --words without promise of perseverance-- are the only words that can be taken as they sound. To trust a word the voice must be trustworthy.
Perhaps I’m simply being naïve, and perhaps I’m simply spouting useless things that are common knowledge, but the fact that words are transitory to this extreme disheartens me to the point I am unsure of who or when to trust. The words I have been hearing “I like you.” “I want to be with you.” “Will you go out with me?” They make me laugh cynically. They make me want to say “It’s just indigestion, it’ll pass.”
Am I a horrible person for my cynicism? I feel like I’ll never be able to listen with the ears of someone who cares; of someone who understands. They tell me “You’ll get over it.” and I thought I would too. I thought that it would go away soon, and that I’d be back on the road to another heartbreak, but I am rotting. My perception of humanity is rotting uncontrollably and incorrigibly.
Truth of the Telling
I know I talk about truths an awful lot, but it’s something that I do because I have to, in some way, pretend like I can understand -and thus weather- the experiences that I find most trying. I try to illustrate to myself the reason for my pain, and through this knowledge maybe gain some semblance of preparation for the next razing. I have come this time to a conclusion -rather than a truth- nay, a definition.
The words ‘I Love You’ were to me, and are to others, a promise. They are a commitment to steadfastness, and an insurance policy for those who are afraid of losing what they’ve put their time and energy into growing. Love --The most expensive of Vices!
I have come to the realization that the words are just that: Words. They carry the meaning associated with them only for the instant that they are said. They hold no power of thoughts feelings or actions of the next twenty-four hour period even, or even the next twenty-four minutes.
This applies for all words in the language we speak. They hold only the power to destroy and to deceive, with the subtle ability to engender makeshift hope and delicate pride, that once embraced lead to still more pain and animosity.
There are no good words to say to quell love lost. And there are no words to mend the broken heart. Only the thoughts; beliefs; timeless healing factor that was breathed into us by our creator can give words any meaning beyond the insidious present. Words without emotion --words without promise of perseverance-- are the only words that can be taken as they sound. To trust a word the voice must be trustworthy.
Perhaps I’m simply being naïve, and perhaps I’m simply spouting useless things that are common knowledge, but the fact that words are transitory to this extreme disheartens me to the point I am unsure of who or when to trust. The words I have been hearing “I like you.” “I want to be with you.” “Will you go out with me?” They make me laugh cynically. They make me want to say “It’s just indigestion, it’ll pass.”
Am I a horrible person for my cynicism? I feel like I’ll never be able to listen with the ears of someone who cares; of someone who understands. They tell me “You’ll get over it.” and I thought I would too. I thought that it would go away soon, and that I’d be back on the road to another heartbreak, but I am rotting. My perception of humanity is rotting uncontrollably and incorrigibly.
