I just don't understand these things.

So here I am. I promise more writings, more thoughts. They are just scattered in oblivions unknown to me. Sometimes I wish I could write about nothing of substance, but who am I to assume my writings mean anything to anyone else but myself. A bold assumption indeed. Keep to myself and I will be safe but I never got anywhere by playing it safe. Safety is my biggest vice it seems, or at least the desire for it.

Valentines Day is upon us once again. The one day to celebrate success to those received the prize promised and to remind everyone else of the constant failure love has to offer. We drug ourselves with all these love stories and we start thinking irrationally. As if one day could change it. One day to turn it all around and for everyone to realize they are in love. Irrational. Unacceptable. I just don't understand these things. Maybe they are not for me to understand. Someday? Sometimes I think never.

I hate to think such cynical thoughts. I feel like I am just turning into a bitter prick. 'Oh son, why are you so bitter? Life has been good to you, I'd hate for you to throw away all your hope away just because of the fickle things life has to offer, like love and romance.'

Life has been good to me. I see some people struggle so much more than me and yet are so content with what they have, with who they have. I feel guilty for my desires sometimes when I see everything that has unfolded in my favor. So why do I yearn for something that is completely out of my control? My greatest bet is my humanity. I am just a man, nothing incredible. I was born with inherant weakness and yearnings.

And then I realize the bigger scope. I come to discover my plans are just planned out mistakes. What am I ever to do? Someone restrain me from jumping into the future, for the future is the cliff which I must avoid at the moment.

"But then, my knees give under me. My head feels weak and suddenly it is clear to see it's not them but me, who has lost my self identity. As I hide behind these books I read, while scribbling my poetry, like art could save a wretch like me, with some ideal ideology that no one can hope to achieve" - Bright Eyes

And there are some things which I just don't understand at the moment, and all I can hope is that through success and failures it will all become clear. Yet, I use trite expressions to hide in the meantime, since I am so insecure about the answers I don't know. But then I realize something, 'I don't know' is perfectly acceptable answer sometimes. And so this time, all I have to say is 'I don't know'.

Waiting on answers,

Little Lion Man

Just a house on sand.

It happens again and again. I run mental sprints all day long, occupying my mind with thoughts that seem to make entrance too early. I start to worry yet again, oh that vice that I have. May it be damned with the rest of my sins. I start seeking reassurance and in the process spread the disruption of peace. I set off a chain reaction of thoughts that I never intended too. And even worse, it begins in minds other than my own. What can it all mean? Why do I waste energy on such non sense. Why do I bother trying to make non sense into normalcy? Then I remember the most valuable feedback I have ever received ' You talk too much '.

Then I walk into my apt and feel the weight of my thoughts on my chest. The sighs become more frequent and you wonder why you are thinking and worrying so much. Nothing is even necessarily wrong, but the thoughts keep running circles in your head and your convince yourself you are just jaded and hope may not apply to you in this situation, or any for that matter. Then you start kicking yourself for letting yourself get back to this frame of thought where you seem to ignore everything good that has ever happened to you and focus on only what if's and could-of-beens.

And then you see a friend, his look of distress ten times darker and discouraged. You immediately realize that your problem isn't even enough to be considered a problem. A concern, but not a problem. You ask if he wants to talk. He says he can't. Later on that night as we lay in our beds in that little room he opens up about the despair he is feeling. He asks why God doesn't care? Why this? Why him?

You just sit and you wonder how you can give him the answers he wants. You know that God is real and that whatever my friend is experiencing God is aware of. But I have been in the same spot, where no answer can satisfy. I was in the exact place he is just eight months earlier, where I was sure God had forgotten and didn't care about an insignificant sinner such as myself.

I made it through though. I worked and worked and pleaded and prayed. I know things get better. I have seen it through to the other side and know I will many times over. And then when you think back on this you realize that I have had just as many experiences that things work out to the experiences where things didn't turn out in good favor with my expectations. The choice is up to me? What am I to believe in? Hope or tragedy? It is entirely my choice, nothing about it is left up to chance. It all rests in me.

So you just have to turn to your friend and tell him 'Look, I can't tell why. All I know is things will get better. I know they do. I am living proof they do.'

And then I think of how I have let my foundation turn into sand. And I have been building a house on fickel ground which can only betray me in the end. Maybe I need to stop before I get so far ahead and think of where I really want to claim my spot of earth. My life depends on it.

And then I realize I need to understand that just as much as he does. So I just remind myself 'Aaron, you talk too much.'

Listening, hearing, understanding,

Little Lion Man