Humans are unrescuable garbage, and I don't know where to go with this thought.
We're an army built on constant self-centeredness and undue apathy. Always zooming in on the excess; always longing for what isn't. Too much salt, too boring a place, too risky a job, too nice a guy. Now I know the fault in my own logic. I know my thoughts aren't the truest in the universe, but they surely are for the infinitesimal corridor that is my existence. Privacy has leaked into willing isolation; we're breaking enormously more hugs than we initiate. Share happiness and double it; share grief and halve it. Bollocks. If there is one thing we share, it is an inevitable tendency to leech off others' failures to fuel one's success. Individual excellence is a sham; everytime I try to improve upon an aspect of my person, I unfailingly have to factor in competition with other people set out on a similar venture- for healthy competition is conducive, right? Who cares if the term 'healthy' has long receded from meaning or truth, and is now serving its existence as a literary appendix?
We needed every parameter of the universe microscopically fine-tuned to come to life. And now, we're doing a excellent job of perpetuating the picky legacy. Opinions are being force-fed more than food and drink, firecrackers are being set alight more than HSC textbooks and justice has long been overturned to serve the forces it was designed to combat. Love survives and admittedly rekindles slender hope, but I cannot shake away a monumental itch of insecurity that keeps saying I am going to take decades to find love, if at all. I am always going to fall over and fall under and fall short and fall hard, trying, and failing, in my ostensibly basic quest to fall in love. I am always going to remain absorbed in my centripetal personality; always going to introspect and ruminate to the point of pain (and eventual separation), always be a little too uncaring, a little too apathic, a little too melancholic for anybody's taste. The 'everyone is unique' philosophy seems at war with the 'someone for each of us' belief, and I am unfortunately inclined towards the former. And I'm afraid I am going to pay for this inclination with ceaseless, repeated, bleak isolation.
Because I have realised that humans are unrescuable garbage. And I don't know where to go with this thought.
~•■•~
A/N- I know it's not Friday or Sunday, but I needed an outlet. Thank you so much, you bunch of angels ♡
YOU ARE READING
Blots
Poetry[On hold] Key: |Straight Brackets| - Poetry. \Tilted Brackets/ - Passionate, Vaguely Poetic Prose or Free Verse. ~Wave Brackets~ - Poetry specifically between 1 and 3 sentences in length. ☆☆ For everyone, Who finds, Not in a graveyard or cretamorium...