“Your soul is oftentimes a battlefield, upon which you reason and your judgment wage war against passion and your appetite.
Would that I could be the peacemaker in your soul, that I might turn the discord and the rivalry of your elements into oneness and melody
But how shall I, unless you yourselves be also the peacemakers, nay, the lovers of all your elements?”
One finds a strange comfort in the hollowness of beautiful words sometimes. Like gems that were waiting to be unearthed by you. Waiting to tell you what you want to listen to.
Those words are not just that. They are what I am. They are what I am fighting. They tell stories of the cold nights on the terrace. They tell stories of the sleepless darkness that I’m fighting. They are the stories of those words casually thrown around and that refuse to leave you alone.
The stories of the pain that comes with a harsh, cold night, when your eyes smart from the ice-cold wind and your fingers turn numb when you run them over the steel railings and you muffle a shiver as you place your bare foot on the granite slabs washed by the cruel, cold moonlight. And you know there’s so much to say and you know that much of it will remain unsaid, because you fear. You fear losing what you cherish and you fear having to face it and you fear that nothing will be the same and you fear that you will wake up to a reality much harsher than this. And you know that you’re fighting that war.
The stories of the turmoil when you know it’s the not the right thing. But you want it to BE. And you close your eyes and walk on pretending to know not where it’s all leading. And you fumble for your totem and hope the dream is your reality. And the war is still on.
And you know the answer to it all along. When it comes down to the battle, there’s only one way you win this one. The answer lies in fighting for oneself. Your needs are but your weaknesses. That person you seek is but your undoing. The answer lies in YOU.