I Wonder If You Always Tell The Truth

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The Unfathomable Distance And The Conspiracy Of Time

i just wanted to get the title down so i didn't forget it. give me a minute to think of something to write. ta muchly.
this is unfinished. or maybe unstarted, since i have not yet decided where this bit fits in. either way, there is more of the usual irrational thoughts; the uniquely humourous delivery; tangent-setting asides; the odd-times raving drivel; and the intended lack and/or over-use of basic grammar still to come.
(it is cold here in the shadows. not that i am hiding or lurking, waiting to pounce on opportunity, (though opportunity is the chap i am waiting for, just a different kind). i am always second in line. in the perpetual shadow cast by the person in front of me who always appears a hundred feet tall, a hero, to the eyes i need to see me and consequently blocking me from sight. they know i am there, but they do not see what i need them to see. those eyes; those sad, sweet, swollen eyes looking right at me that one time. a longing, a questioning. i am the answer to that question. i just need them to see it. everytime i think my destiny has arrived someone cuts in and i am back where i started. or, as i am beginning to think, back where i belong. i ask myself "how much longer can i wait?"; i ask you "how much longer should i wait?". i answer forever. what about you? not that i will listen, my mind is made up. i can, and will wait for as long as it takes. though it is by no means a favourable existence. when your thoughts are all directed at one goal everything must be in some way neglected. not always out of choice, but of necessity. a life on the emotional edge. vulnerable to the slightest distraction. at any given moment everything around is either enhanced hundred-fold or disappears into the abyss, unnoticed. and you cannot choose the moments or the action. the smallest breeze of misfortune is enough to throw you off-balance. such loss of equilibrium has a devastating effect on moods, temperament and interactive behaviour. even such natural things as weather change in their attributes. the cold winter winds burn your cheeks with an unbearable pressure. your lungs freeze as you struggle to breath with your face to the gusts. you cannot feel your hands and where your feet once stood, now blocks of ice tread the frozen pavement. and yet, at other times, the winds, the cold, the shivering limbs are of no consequence. you feel neither cold, nor ill; your breathing is unchallenged and all extremities move freely. it is possibly unexplainable. or, it is easily explainable. perhaps it is the thought that dictates. the thought that all your emotions and efforts are concentrated upon, combined with the last reaction that they gave. personally, and the weather example was personal, the cold scenario is always first. regardless of mood or reaction. the second, warmer scenario, occurs when a feeling of not caring, or being passed caring, occurs. usually that is a lie though. i have lied to myself a thousand times just to escape from the vulnerability. the draining of hope and the accepting of defeat. i will never give up hope, even though i do see reason to every so often. that only comes with the anger though. anger and uncertainty. not anger as in rage, but an anger with it's foundation in love. the anger that the dalai lama speaks of. an acceptable anger. sometimes this will give way to frustration when my guard drops though such occasions have become scarce. the heart is a much more valuable asset than the mind in this respect. the heart, a creation of God, has the ability to hold two conflicting thoughts such as love and anger and, even further, to hold them in perfect alignment. the feeble human mind cannot comprehend such opposites being the same. this is because the mind, although by definition also one of God's creations, was only made for this world. anything worth thinking about should be left to the heart. the heart is a far better thinker than the mind, people just do not realise it. the mind, the brain, the head, whatever you want to call it is only useful for the artificial things. the technicalities of life. solving equations, finding solutions to unimportant questions. the heart should be making all our important decisions, and all important decisions have at the root love. maybe i oversimplify. if i do then it is because i have to. life has taken its toll. many things that are taken for granted by others are incomprehensible to me. sometimes i am one of those things. incomprehensible to myself and taken for granted by others. and usually hidden behind a veil of ignorance or assumed knowledge. "he will not mind" they say; "he'll do it" they assure each other; "he can wait, its okay" they tell themselves. i suppose i should be proud that i can be so effortlessly accommodating. i am not. i am neither effortlessly accommodating, at least not in that sense, nor am i proud of the fact that others think i am. and that is when it starts. "it is just one thing after another with you isn't it!", said i, concluding with a not so pointed threat as such a thorough beratement of attitude which had preceeded usually requires. yes, i was talking to myself. yes, again. i'm never nice to myself; always condemning, always arguing. for some reason when you lack something, that not only you need but can see yet it is always out of reach, it is often the case that it is easier to get yourself down than it is to keep spirits up. the lows last longer than the highs, at least they seem to. they probably wouldn't if i didn't keep focusing back. the thrills should last longer than the spills, even though the latter are more frequent. if things were that easy i wouldn't be writing this then and you wouldn't be reading it now. i am like a fugitive from the law of averages.)
unfinished and will remain so. so, in a sense, it is finished.