Steve's F

Steve's F

Thursday, 31 January 2013

Slow Death

My dad who  would have been 74 if he had't died three years go, days after his birthday used to say "if you can't make it better, just leave it alone."  Something else he used to say was "nothing comes from nothing, nothing ever did." I hear him as I stare into the void between desire and disillusion.

But what when other emotions come in the way of this altruistic maxim? What next,  when  you know that something you have the opportunity to do  has the potential to change something you care about to your core. But the vehicle that enables that change, the person or the entity degrades you, rapes your conscience,  and makes you less than you can be? Big Life lessons last couple of weeks. I know what I don't want, maybe this is a step to identifying what I want.

There are things I can't or  won't do anymore. Not because I am a moralist or judgmental  but because  finally I understand that everything we do is transactional. Biteback karma has a massive afterlife.

I am having a spell of unusual honesty with myself.  There is a standard in relationships one reflected in economic values, we talk about investing in ourselves,  cutting losses when they feel destructive,  and the constant presence of value and judgement based words  like a  vocal helpful self help book throwing out random words or idioms. The idea of self worth, of selling ourselves into an exhausted economy. What if the concept of value itself has decayed?


But what is love other than  a plastic mechanism which props this all up, all this framework of tinder box match sticks. Like a free radical cancer cell, it causes flourishing and unexpected growths and movement, a crisis of overproduction which turns into expectation because love is never unconditional. Desire, like love is arbitraged over extended periods, to give it value. Value it lost a long time ago, propped up by false market economies and the wearing of the brand of the beast.

You cross a personal line, one you thought you couldn't cross AGAIN, and you enter the no (wo)man's wasteland of  space between what your core values are and what you are doing or feeling.  We women do it all the time, sell ourselves short, be less than the best we can be.

We only die once but everyday a thousand decisions and actions bring us a little bit closer to the ultimate, the  imperceptible black hole event on the distant horizon.

We may not see anything or feel anything special, but imperceptibly the cancer , the love, whatever has shifted up a gear and  we've "taken one for the company", for a bigger cause, we've sold ourselves  out. Again. We are the permanent Blue Cross sale day.