Sunday, November 23, 2008

Expired Candy


This was written almost 18 months ago. I no longer feel like the person who wrote it but am posting it now, with minor editing, to keep a promise to the one I love:


I'm often left stunned at my tendency to knowingly make the wrong decision.
I'm not referring to a certain adherence to a moral code or a cosmological order, merely that decision which I personally render right or wrong for myself. Thus it is that through whatever mad confluence of mental emotional and spiritual factors I reach a certain decision, believe that it is good, then willingly do the complete opposite. It almost feels like a conscious decision to negate my very self, my very being. The melodrama is not lost on me but while some decisions may be all too trivial to think twice about, some are crucial tests of character that pose potential for growth and enhanced insight.

I find myself at times craving complete detachment from my circumstances in a way not unlike the depressive days of yonder. I wonder whether I am merely a product of my own ego and its machinations or if I can rise above myself to see beyond the horizon.

I suppose in a manner I enjoy considering my options, or rather, I like to keep my options open; line them up and ponder their pleasure potential. When I was a kid I used to buy all sorts of jelly candy, adorn the table with them then pop one after the other savoring each slowly, running my tongue over it, rolling it around until its juice is sapped, only then would I bite down to devour it; the yellow then the red then the green then the purple, etc.

I guess what I'm saying is I wish life was more like candy.