false heart 4

We are all motherless children. The sooner we realize it, the better off, the happier we can be. There are no consequences, there is no before, there is no after. There is only now, and what I choose to do with now.

I spent--wasted--years and years of my life moping on what I perceived had been done to me when I was a kid. It HAD been done to me, in some sense, in the sense that I only got sent off to that place because of the fucked-up shit the people who sent me there were carrying with them. I was their creation, the product of their mistakes and their pasts and their damage, and as a result the way I turned out was due to them. so whatever I was, for them to send me away as if I were a broken thing was an indictment of them, not me.

But that blame and that regret and that shame drove me into a place where I just wanted to hide inside myself, and forget everything. I remembered the pain, and the lost opportunities but I wanted to forget everything else. And in my self-pitying place of blame and hopelessness I created a perfect world where none of that had ever happened.

Oh, if only this, if only that. How different it all would have been. But it wasn’t. It was done It was over, and in a way I moved on, by forgetting, but in another way, I relived it over and over again in lieu of living the life I was currently occupying. I was dead.

No longer. I have no one to be ashamed to. I have nothing to be ashamed of. I want to remember everything, every detail, every step and misstep, and bury nothing. Because all of that is the sum of who I am. All of that is the resulting mess that is walking around now, feeling utterly confident and sure of myself, because, well, there is nothing else. There can be nothing else for me. There is no future, there is no past, because I will never occupy any other moment than the present.

We are all motherless children. We have no one to answer to, we have no reason to be miserable. Because we can choose to do whatever we want, whatever makes us happy. If another person isn’t doing what they could be doing to make us happy, we can choose to hang out with a different person. We can relocate ourselves and our energies to someplace that does make us happy rather than pining for that which isn’t happening.

There is no past. There is no future. There is only now. And what I fucking well choose to do with the now.