A New Entry from “A Little From The Abstract”

There are times when we can feel something coming. We don’t know what it is or what it will be but either way, we can feel something coming. Maybe it’s a change. Maybe it’s a change for the better. Or maybe it’s an end to a chapter that needs to close, yet, we’re still in the middle and we’re not ready to finalize anything. Maybe it’s just a mood. Or maybe it is a predicament of the mind. Maybe this is why we think or feel this way. Maybe it’s the stress levels of the surrounding atmosphere that begins to over-pressurize this capsule, which we call our life.
I want to breathe, we say. And we want the weight to go away. Or in exchange, I can spell the word differently to take on an entirely different meaning and say “we want the wait to go away.” But either way, the word pertains to a sense of heaviness. In which case, either meaning can still mean the same thing.

There is no clear or apparent reason why we take on a sense of heaviness. Meanwhile, there is an optical illusion that surrounds us in our everyday life. There is an idea about “Us” and “Them”.
There is a saying which dates back to the days in the schoolyard that suggests, “everybody” does this or that or “everybody” thinks this way.
Then of course, the question is who is “everybody?”
When we say “everyone,” who do we mean? When we say the word “they” as if to assume a group, who do we mean exactly?
It is impossible to know “everyone”. Therefore it is impossible to know what “everyone” thinks or feels. 
It is impossible to know what “everybody” does so then it would be equally impossible to know how “everybody” responds Yet to us, we use these terms as a basis of measurement. We use terms and base them on cases of social influence. The ideas of the crowd or the mob, or the mob mentality, becomes grouped in with words like “they” or “them” or “we” and “us,”  and as a result, this is what leads us to the road to pronoun troubles. This is where misperceptions are born and misconceptions become the teachers of our inaccurate facts. 

Everyone. Everybody. Us and them, they or those people. What does this mean? Where does this come from? And why is it that we allow this to weigh upon us? Why do we let this bring us into a sense of feeling distant or lonesome? How do these marks of comparison benefit us? And why is it that we allow the thoughts or ideas of outside sources to dictate or determine who we are or how we feel? 

I swear this world of ours is one hell of an illusion.

Everyone is going through something. Everyone has their share of pain and everyone can understand the discomfort and mishandled moments that come with our so-called life.
The burdens we feel are real. And of course the burdens are real. How can they not be real if we believe in them?

Ever find yourself in a group of people and yet, it seems as if you are on your own? Alone in a crowd is what we say. Ever feel as if you are nothing like anyone else? Ever feel as if people are strangers even though you’ve known them for a long, long time?
Ever have a sense that something is impending? Something’s coming your way. Ever feel like, “Yeah, something is gonna happen,” and yet, you don’t know what it is, so you panic, and you wonder if this is payment for something you did in the past, so you wait for the weight to fall but you just want to know when?

Ever suffer from this thing we call anticipation?

To anticipate; to expect beforehand, to think, speak, or act in advance. Ever expect the worst? Ever wonder when the aftermath will come? Ever concentrate so closely on the so-called discomforts that it becomes impossible to just breathe or relax? The whole goddamn world is so goddamn intense. Everything is heavy. Everyone has a different side. 

Ever realize this has more to do with the deception of our perception and less to do with actual reality? This is where the predicament begins. This is where the mind-fuck begins because this is all based on the concepts of our thinking. Ever realize it is the concepts from our mind that tend to betray us?

Ever realize the predictions we have are based on fears and concerns that suggest we might not get our way? And what exactly does this mean? What does failure mean? What does rejection mean and more to the point, is any of this even real? Or is this only real to us?

Sometimes we take on the over-pressurized feeling from the outside world. And we wait for something to get better. We wait for something to come along and change. We wait for the weight to go away, and yet, the wait keeps waiting and the heaviness on our chest keeps gaining. This makes it hard to breathe, right?
This is the mind-fuck. This is the predicament and the dilemma. These are the thought patterns which release the beast in us and dammit all, this is when it feels like no matter where you run, you just can’t seem to get away. 

But dig it . . .

What if the mind was only a lair? What if the mind was no different from a small kid just looking to be protected? What if all we are doing is projecting the remnants from our past to predict the rejections in our future?
What if the reasons we think we’re insane are based upon our exaggerations and concerns that something must be wrong? Something has to be wrong, right?  Of course, something’s wrong. Why would we believe something is wrong, especially if nothing is wrong? 

Do you see where I’m going with this?
It’s these crazy predictions we have that are based on the disappointments of our past, and yet, we never realize our involvement when our history repeats itself. 

As for me, I had to learn to live differently. I had to see things differently. I had to look at things differently. Therefore, as a means to maintain my sanity, I chose to look for whatever I could find to hold the threads of something beautiful, just so I can say, “Look, see? There is something beautiful here?
I had to switch my focus. I had to stop monitoring the sad fascinations of regret and fallouts and switch this in a new direction. 

For now, the beauty I see is the daybreak as it comes up through the fog. The sky is a shade of light gray with sporadic openings that act as portholes into a pale blue Heaven. I’ll take that.
I’ll take the quick glimpses of beauty. I’ll take this with hopes that the rains will clear. The streets are wet but I can tell the sun is looking to push through.
I’ll take this with hopes that I can find something on the other side; that I can stay out of my own way, that I can change my steps and change my predictions into something more favorable.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that I hope.
And hope is not a dangerous thing. It’s okay to be human. It’s okay to be unique. It’s okay for you to be you and me to be me. This can keep us away from the pronoun troubles we have with “us” or “them.”

This way, the wait can end. Or better yet, this way, the weight can stop.
So we can breathe again
(and find peace)

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