The ruins of us.

When you stop thinking about it, when it stops crossing your mind, when your mind stops chewing on it over and over again is when you know it doesn't matter to you, for real. As long as you repeat the oh so famous I-don't-care, you still do. Truth is when you stop saying I don't care is when you really don't. Thinking about it now, I never thought I'd be here, indifferent. I never thought It wouldn't matter to me anymore. I don't seem to recognize the me that doesn't miss it, that doesn't think about it. I don't know what went wrong, but something did. That something that went wrong inside me, is what saved me. I stopped being in denial, that thing they call acceptance started to bloom.

It was like living in a house where the roof has fallen off and looking up everyday and smiling, being all Pollyanna about it. I don't care, I just don't care. What they're calling a wreck, is my home. What they don't like is what I built brick by brick over such a long time and I can't afford to lose it, lose what I've built so far for a little desturction. I can't let all the beautiful memories go to waste, its who I am, its all that we are. Invincible, irreplaceable. No, the roof is not a sign, and no it is not crumbling down. It wont kill me, it can't kill me, its whats keeping me alive. Living around all this is the reason I wake up in the morning. There isn't anywhere like this anyway, I'd trade the entire world for this. It may not be what it once was, but its our place. 

Truth is, the helplessness it made me feel broke my heart. It was a mess that I couldn't stop, It drowned me in deep denial. I didn't like living in a roofless house, I didn't like the sun, I didn't like the exposure. I felt unsafe, unprotected. It didn't look like something that belongs to me, it didn't feel like something that once belonged to me. I looked up, like every other morning, and asked myself "Is it worth it?" 

And it was more crushing than courageous to finally realize, it isn't. It wasn't worth it, it wasn't worth holding onto. There was no room for false hope or denial, no room for sweeping issues under the rug no more. That sad grey morning, I moved out.

The battle of the greatest powers.

The feeling, the ache right in the middle of your chest. A physical sensation of your insides shattering to a million little pieces, a broken heart or so they say. In our minds, the problem is always our hearts. A battle of right and wrong. A battle of power, of unconsciousness, of control. They trick you, you find yourself unconsciously giving in to their hidden powers. Follow your heart they say. Then again, be smart use your mind, because hearts make fools out of us and the mind knows whats best for you. Being smart, is always associated with using your head. That is where we are wrong. It is not the heart thats the problem, in fact it is our mind. Our mind is what keeps on relentlessly going over things, over and over and over again. Our mind is what keeps us restless, sleepless.. 

Literary the heart, the actual heart, does not get hurt. In fact, it does not feel anything. We cling to ideas, we create problems that only exist in our head. Mainly because most of the time, we want things to be different, we expect them to be different, most importantly we spend so much time thinking of what ifs. What if, this that and the other. What if things were actually different. In our minds we do not accept things or people the way they are. We constantly have the urge to try to change things, change people, change reactions, change feelings, change situations. The mind is persistent, insistent, impatient.  The power of a persistent mind is larger, than the power of a thousand hearts. It just can't let it go, can it?