Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do, or don’t. Either way, survival mode does not ask for permission, it demands presence.
And you submit and obey.
Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do, or don’t. Either way, survival mode does not ask for permission, it demands presence.
And you submit and obey.
Call me cynical if you must. We all have our own philosophy on life and love. Everyone’s experience is uniquely subjective. And I have an earned level of discernment. Judge me if you must.
No one could ever break my heart, because I never expected love.
Don’t project that on me. I’m not upset in the least. There’s just a little moisture in my eye.
I’m fine.
I learned to divide myself
not out of cleverness
but out of need.
To keep the engine running,
each part learned its station:
one for winning,
one for not sitting still long enough
for the floor to give way.
Stillness was expensive.
Motion paid the bills.
I organized my inner life
like a system under pressure
efficient,
quiet,
appearing whole.
Could it be that you were just a mirror, reflecting back at me? Was our connection state dependent? Did you feel my warmth? Or was it just a reverie?