So I shouldn't blame myself for the tragedies that
aren't really tragedies but are tearing me apart.
And they probably aren't even tearing me apart but quite frankly,
my mind is analogous to a torn scrim
bound to open up to a whole new show of fresh, terrible events.
I probably put so many pessimistic vibes out into the universe,
that I wouldn't hold a look of bombshell in my eyes.
I'm not supposed to believe that any of this is my fault.
I wish this was a simpler task.
One could go through life without the inkling of a doubt
that any of the experiences they endure have anything to do with them.
A little bit of apathy.
I ponder the time that has passed that I have longed for such a feeling.
The dizzying disregard souls that should have been discontinued.
In this sense, people are almost like magazines.
I've so many issues to unsubscribe from,
but I know that the magazine is wholesome in its intentions.
Say it was a magazine on puppies.
Though it's a pressing problem,
I don't like seeing ads from the ASPCA.
Great cause, but I donated to them a while ago.
They were important to me for a time,
and they always will be.
But there's a time that has come,
where I no longer need to see all of that as often to remind me of my values.
The compassion and love will always be there,
how can it not?
But just seeing those ads seem to jumble my thoughts more than usual,
which is a tad too much more than I can take.
The stereotypes begin to seep into me because they're a bit too true.
The eyes of those dogs remind me a bit too much of my own.
I can't imagine what they go through.
I've helped them and my thoughts as much as I could,
pressed towels into their wounds,
although the saline and blood continued to ooze.
My donation held value, I know.
The positivity in the fact that some of them have found homes
I wish my thoughts sought some other place of shelter that was
far from the haunted house that is my mind.
Perhaps it truly is my fault that they're so tortured.
I'm a bit tired of not having an explanation for everything that's been going on
because none of it ever really makes any sense.
And my mind tells me all of the right answers,
but it's almost as though I don't believe in them as much as I used to.
I regret things quite a bit more than I should, and especially more than I used to.
I long for so much more,
maybe that bit of greed is one that I should rid myself of.
But I don't know where I would start to go about it.
At my age I have a myriad of potential pathways to pursue to acheive happiness.
I constantly debate whether or not I should indulge in some of them.
Most of my mind has turned to nonsense that shouldn't have ever existed.
It's been a barrage of regret and negativity
that I don't quite have the gumption to shake too well.
Though I can't repair the minds of those animals,
I have a longing to fix the thoughts that have not yet left.
Human Dignity + Compassion = Peace.