Within the Tempest of the Soul

[Desires]

          It is a bit unsettling to find myself writing again, as if I were writing a book that was meant to be published, but it is not like that. I am writing because I need it. It is my addiction; my personal hobby and probably, the only sane action that I could live with until I die and went to sleep with the earth.

            I could probably begin by ranting about the horrid state in which my life is at right now, but no; this is not the time or the place for such negativity. A person is capable of being conscious of its actions to a certain degree, rather than blaming the factor of pure impulse and brief mental lapses of insanity. No one is perfect to any sort of standard and if they are, I must congratulate them myself and shake their hand. You might say that was a tad bit cynical of me, but I can’t help it. It doesn’t go without saying, that people need some form of constructive criticism to inspire them to improve upon themselves and to beg them to stop acting like unapologetic dummies.

            The insults, personally, are used to act as a guide to awake my fellow human beings from the constant whips, quips and whines from the common vultures that prey inside of their heads.

            Let make one thing clear; I am not the savior of none, but if I don’t find it within myself to care for people, I couldn’t live with the fact that I did not try to make someone’s day feel a bit less agonizing. Aren’t we supposed to be there for one another? Aren’t we supposed to care about those, who through the brightest of days and darkest of nights, stick around when it matters the most? We could…but our pride is too big to swallow.

            We’re forgetting the basic needs in our lives. We need our health to be at one hundred percent, in order to accomplish the goals that we set out to do. We need our sleep, in order for us to dare to dream about the endless possibilities of creating wonders when you have an open mind and a focused soul. And perhaps the most important need of all, love. We all want to feel loved and so forth, but it hasn’t been like that lately. Maybe I could speak out of personal experience when I say that I’m not ready for love myself. I have pretended to love some people, when in reality, I just wished they could just get away from me. I should excuse myself for the bluntness of such a statement, but that is how I felt like in those moments and I can’t take it back anymore. The concept of love shouldn’t hover around convenience and half-truths, but yet it has become a self-appointed practice among us and it is a saddening view to behold.

            We are an amalgamation of elements, feelings and beliefs. We are a singular and plural entity. We live and perish; much like the day on the eve of its death at the hands of the night. We hurt people more than we try healing them; the bleeding never ceases to stop. What will remain for the future generations as we continue this path towards self-annihilation? I fear that nothing will be left. The legacy of a rational species will be that God wasted His time and that Humanity did not do anything to rise through the rubbish of its own ego and atone itself towards humility and true virtue.

            I want to believe that things can be better. I really do. I want to see the rifts that were open between us become closed for good. I want us to be something greater than two souls, let’s be that one universe that compounds everything we could ever love about each other. We all have desires to be fulfilled and we still have time to make them happen. We have ourselves to hold us down, but it can be turned around.

            You want to visit places around the world? You want to meet someone that could represent that beacon of light in that darkened room in your heart? You want to experience the lights and sounds of a path not yet taken? Take a leap of faith towards the infinite.

by Hector Pizarro Canales