When, exactly did I lose all
hope? I think it happened over the
last six years, slowly and incrementally.
It happened in coincidence with my spiritual unfoldment and the last
major breakup which, not so coincidentally, happened over the last six
years. As both love and
psychological illusion fell away, hope went with it, tagging along for the
ride. I have to say, at this
point, I’m not sure it was love at all.
It was another version of ego.
Another point of addiction by a mind that thinks it’s all knowing
powerful and in charge of truth.
It was more like being a crack addict. It probably seems like a good idea to get that high at
first. It feels unbelievably good,
I imagine. Like love. Until it starts to take over and becomes
less about choice and feeling good and more about not feeling bad. I’ve tried, in my bad choices in love,
to shore up hope: hope that love
can last, hope that the high won’t wear off, hope that I can finally feel good
about myself. Which is the
catch-22. How can you feel good
about being an addict? Love, not
the addicted kind that I have preferred, hasn’t helped. I’ve felt worse for the choices I’ve
made and now I’m left without hope of ever changing this life through
love.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Hope, Love, Crack and Truth
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