You’re Temporary

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[This is a disorganized entry.  This is a lot of bullshit that has been banging around inside of my brain for the past two days.  This is nonsense that make sense to me and exists here on this blog purely because I can type faster than I can write by hand.  I tried to make sense of the thought process, but only confused myself more and elaborated on thoughts I was already trying to calm.  So I gave up and just let it be.  Enjoy the random.]

 

You’re temporary.  You’re insignificant to the universe.  In the scope of things, you’re not worth much more than the dog shit I stepped in this morning.  You are nothing.  Worth only energy, that’s it.  Your life is not permanent.  Neither is mine.  I am temporary.

There are many catch-phrases floating around regarding how short life really is.  All have the effect of “Don’t take life too seriously, it’s not like you’ll get out alive.”  Then, if you remove religion from the equation, you realize how short your life really is, how short it could be.  It’s quite an interesting thought and it puts a lot of “problems” that we all face into the correct perception.

Nothing we have, nothing we feel, nothing we accomplish is permanent.  It’s all temporary, purely because life is temporary.  To the outside world, to the universe, nothing matters.  It just exists, and then it doesn’t (or rather conscious thought doesn’t).  So going along with that train of thought, individual actions, or events do not matter.  That wretched heartbreak when someone you love(d) hurt you, all the way to finding out you have won the lottery, do not matter.

At least not to the greater scheme of everything.  I can tell you, from basic life experience, in the moment, it most definitely does matter.  That love you felt?  It matters.  Seeing your children happy?  It matters.  Living a good life?  It sure as shit matters.  Education.  It matters.  Your dog, your designer jeans, your ex-husband, your illness, your job, everything matters in the moment.

Purely because you are temporary, purely because life is short, (again, no religion please), it matters.  Everything you do SHOULD matter.  One single action you make, while temporary to the universe, is a very permanent thing in your life.  Even if it doesn’t have echoing repercussions, even if there’s no major cause and effect, it is still an event that happened with in your short lifespan.  Plus, more times than not, that action, either directly or indirectly, changed someone else’s life.  Even a miniscule amount, which to me?  Matters.

What I think is important in the endgame, is happiness.  Honestly, that’s what matters to me.  I want to be happy.  I want my child to be happy.  I want the people I love to experience happiness as much as possible.  At the end of the game, when it’s all nearly over, looking back on a life that has as much happiness in it as possible, seems much more preferable than misery.  We must experience all aspects of life, in order to feel everything, to know the true base feelings are, because again, at the end?  That might be all we have.

Something stuck in my head last night, a friend of mine was talking about the hell his last previous relationships put him though.  Which of course, anyone who has been broken hearted knows how desperate, how desolate one can feel.  It seems like the hurt will always happen, and who am I to say, maybe it always will.  Maybe each and every relationship will end of turmoil and tears.  I don’t know the future, just like no one else does.  I’ve been through some horrible, nasty relationships.  Ranging from addiction to physical abuse.  Hell, I’ve been through some very “normal” relationships, where at the end I was sure that my heart was literally bleeding on the floor, and if it wasn’t?  I wanted to make it so.  After all of it so far?  After all the stupid shit I’ve dealt with?  Was it worth it?  Is it worth trying again?  Is it worth giving it a shot, if I’m just going to be hurt again?

Yes.

It’s worth it.  My last relationship (after the divorce) ended in a not so happy way.  The man I had loved (or thought I loved, whatever) had moved away and I couldn’t go with.  It put me in a funk, and by funk, I mean a violent dive into self destruction.  It lasted a long time, and it hurt more than any physical pain I’ve been in.  Love can do that to a person.  It’s possible, you know.  But coming out after the hell I seemed to thrive in… looking back?  It was most definitely worth it, those moments of pure happiness that I gained throughout the relationship were worth it.  It may not have lasted, but what does?  Life itself is temporary, so why should it last?  But the fact that I WAS happy, and now have happy memories makes it worth the while, worth the risk.

Those moments are what makes life worth it.  What makes getting up in the morning (or afternoon) worth anything.  Those fleeting moments of love and happiness make it worth trying again, even to risk having your heart torn out yet another time.

Let me ask you.  Why not take the risk?  What do you have to lose?  Any pain you feel will be temporary.

How can you know what love is if you haven’t been in an immense amount of psychological pain?  How can you know what pure joy feels like, if you haven’t been completely destroyed, if you haven’t had to pick yourself up off the ground and promised yourself to do it again?  How can you know what your feeling is real, if you haven’t felt the opposite.  How can you enjoy a cup of coffee outside, surrounded by the very thing you love, nature, without learning how much you’ve taken it for granted in the past?  How can you feel the beat if you’ve never lost yourself in it?

Life is temporary.  You are temporary.  I am temporary.  If nothing else, embrace it.  Some days the idea that I might only exist for a little while, that my conscious thought might not be here forever, scares the ever living shit out of me.  Some days I embrace it.  Some times I wrap the thought that nothing is forever around me like a warm blanket.  Regardless on my take of it, which very much so changes every single got-damned day, embracing the fact that everything is temporary has improved life dramatically.  It’s made me take risks to avoid what ifs, but it’s also made me re-think some of the choices I’ve made, some of the choices I’m going to have to make.  Even though life is temporary, it is very permanent to me.  I only have one.  And despite the inert fucked-up-ness I’ve dragged myself through… I’m going to rock it.

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