this is art.
It's easy to love something beautiful. I read that somewhere just now. Is that true? Is it really that easy to really love something beautiful? I don't think so. It's easy to "lust" something beautiful. It's easy to misinterpret that "lust" as "love." It's easy to love something that's comfortable, and reliable, and traditional, and secure. Is that loving, though? Can you really truly say you love something if you've never sufficiently questioned its existence and why it was there, to begin with?
It starts as a mutual attraction.
Or maybe not mutual; maybe it's just one-sided.
Then it turns into something more. Maybe it's a "one thing leading to another" sort of story.
Or maybe it's an actual something of substance.
Either way.
It develops and envelops you. You are lost inside of it. Sort of like another world. Sort of like a rabbit hole.
You
slowly
fall
down
into
it.
Then maybe one day, down the road -- be it 3 months or 3 years, something happens. You wake up.
You open your eyes and come to the staggering realization that perhaps this little comfort zone is just that.
A zone.
You've zoned out of life for however long.
Upon your return, you're not very comfortable.
Being uncomfortable, and outside of your personal box, they say, is where you grow most as a person.
I guess it's up to those of us whether we want to grow or not.
I grew.
I grew up and I grew out of the zone.
It happened just about this time last year, give or take a few weeks.
I grew up, I grew out, and then I got sucked back into the vortex.
This is different than the zone. Much different.
A vortex, by definition, is an irresistable force.
A zone is just an area.
Time went on, and I subverted the vortex.
So here I sit. Somewhere new. Sort of. Somewhere between a vortex and a zone.
Everything that is happening right now is contingent upon one thing, and one thing only:
Reliability.
Am I relying on the inconsistency of the space between the zone and the vortex?
Maybe.
Reliable. See also: dependable. See also: consistent.
So I come to a stand-still. Because now the semantics of my situation are contradicting each other.
Reliably inconsistent.
Hm.
It's funny... for the longest, longest time... I thought I was crazy. I [thought] I had all of these problems. And I'm not sure at what point... but at some point, somewhere, I changed. But I'm not sure whether it's because I got better... or because everyone else got worse.
It starts as a mutual attraction.
Or maybe not mutual; maybe it's just one-sided.
Then it turns into something more. Maybe it's a "one thing leading to another" sort of story.
Or maybe it's an actual something of substance.
Either way.
It develops and envelops you. You are lost inside of it. Sort of like another world. Sort of like a rabbit hole.
You
slowly
fall
down
into
it.
Then maybe one day, down the road -- be it 3 months or 3 years, something happens. You wake up.
You open your eyes and come to the staggering realization that perhaps this little comfort zone is just that.
A zone.
You've zoned out of life for however long.
Upon your return, you're not very comfortable.
Being uncomfortable, and outside of your personal box, they say, is where you grow most as a person.
I guess it's up to those of us whether we want to grow or not.
I grew.
I grew up and I grew out of the zone.
It happened just about this time last year, give or take a few weeks.
I grew up, I grew out, and then I got sucked back into the vortex.
This is different than the zone. Much different.
A vortex, by definition, is an irresistable force.
A zone is just an area.
Time went on, and I subverted the vortex.
So here I sit. Somewhere new. Sort of. Somewhere between a vortex and a zone.
Everything that is happening right now is contingent upon one thing, and one thing only:
Reliability.
Am I relying on the inconsistency of the space between the zone and the vortex?
Maybe.
Reliable. See also: dependable. See also: consistent.
So I come to a stand-still. Because now the semantics of my situation are contradicting each other.
Reliably inconsistent.
Hm.
It's funny... for the longest, longest time... I thought I was crazy. I [thought] I had all of these problems. And I'm not sure at what point... but at some point, somewhere, I changed. But I'm not sure whether it's because I got better... or because everyone else got worse.