The Drowning of The Daffodils

An Answer

Part 1.

"An answer"

I never thought I'd force myself to believe in a load of bullshit that people use in attempt to make inspiring quotes out of on tumblr. Or the underlying theme in douchey, philosophical novels. An excruciatingly ridiculous and unnecessary idea, that has somehow made its way into nearly any, and seemingly every, form of advice or 'words of wisdom' offered to someone, in limitless problematic situations. As a method to provide them with comfort and understanding. And it is ultimately, just a nonsensical idea that has been popularized by the media, and glorified in society as some sort of profound belief. A belief that's only purpose is to encourage positive thinking. A belief that makes you sound like a cynical asshole if you do not actively believe in it. And show that you do, in fact, believe in it. Any time that somebody wants to feel a sense of certainty and control about their life, you have to show them that you believe in it... Because they will believe it. They will always believe it. Everybody does. Because it's the only other immediate option that stops you from relentlessly over-analyzing. Because it stops you from dwelling in regret and insecurity. Because it stops you from losing yourself in guilt and hesitation. Then losing your mind in denial.

Because it's easier than the truth.

Why do things happen? Good things and bad things. Perfect things and painful things. Magic things and tragic things. Beautiful things and deadly things. Everything...We've all thought about it, and some people are convinced that they've actually figured it out. Fate? Destiny? Is it all by chance or by choice or by design? You haven't figured it out. No one has. And no one ever will; no matter how hard we search for a reason, or a sign, or an answer, or some piece of evidence as to why and what and how all of this and all of us are here. We will never, and can never, with absolute certainty, know. But pretending we do is easier than admitting that. It's easier than the truth. I haven't figured it out either, and I probably never will. I don't know why things happen, but I do know something. Something from observation. I know why we do this - pretending that we know why, telling ourselves over and over that we've figured it out; that we know the truth, that we know the reason and that we've found our answer. I know why.

This is the truth.

Fate. Destiny. The alignment of the stars. The underlying reason. The higher power. The controller of our lives. The holder of our fate. Whatever you believe in.

It's something that people use to numb their fears of the future and their fears of the past. Their fears of anything unknown. Anything unpredictable, uncertain or uncontrollable. Because it gives them the control. Not the control over what happened in the past or what will happen in their future, but control over how they will feel about it in the meantime... As much control as they can really have over their feelings.

From what I've seen, the idea of fate used as 4 basic tools:

1. An answer. 2. An excuse. 3. A conclusion. 4. A solution.

To some, it's an Answer; a source of reassurance. Mentally, it's like a secure brick wall in their minds to guard themselves from their abusive subconscious. Which has been deeply suppressed - Their insecurities. It's an answer used to hide from any haunting uncertainty of their memories. Before they manifest every fear, every doubt, every paranoid second thought that they've pushed to the back of their mind in attempt to conceal it before it piles up, growing into a monster that eats every piece of sanity they have left in them. Overthinking; It's a monster.

And that's when they turn to fate to prevent overthinking. An answer.

These people tend to be more on the sane side, though. Given their ability to actually contain those insecurities; the downward spiral of regret, doubt, hesitation, distrust, fear. So, it's a relief for them to be able to believe in fate and to have that answer.

Because some of us do let it pile up inside our heads and control us... and as soon as we lose sight of our answer, lose our feelings of assurance, we lose control of those thoughts. And that's when we let them loose. Some of us let it spread from our mind, through our bodies like a disease. Contagious to every part of us. We let it erupt out of our brains, navigate through our bloodstream until it reaches the surface, where it connects to our skin; making its presence on the outside; where our hands shake, and our eyes water, and our voice cracks. And we let it. Then it attaches back to the source, re-internalizing. Digging a deep tunnel back to our brain, through our system, where it once again makes it's presence on the inside; where our hearts pound violently, and our lungs throb desperately, and our stomachs ache hopelessly. And we let it. Then it relentlessly keeps digging its way back into our minds, in it's vicious attack, contaminating our vitals with the sickness of perpetual apprehension, slowly taking over every part of us... until it eats us alive. And we let it.

Some of us do let it become a monster.