Obsession and Dependency.
Where do they come from? Two of the most fascinating and destructive things in life humans suffer from. A need so palpable for someone or something- it makes you itch and sweat. It’s not like you don’t have other things to think about, more important matters. It’s like a poison that spreads slowly. A poison that remains in your veins long after you realize that you’ve made the pedestal. Long after you’ve broken the pedestal and seen the truth.
The things and people in life that scream danger and excitement. Everything tells you to keep away, and the thrill that sends you racing back again and again- It’s addictive.
I don’t suppose I was ever meant to be amongst peers. I’m not quite sure what those are most of the time. Even when I’m understood I don’t feel understood-I cannot honestly say I understand who or what I am. When asked to identify with myself, I see a vivid image: a forest fire. Bright, wild energy-unpredictable, destructive, fascinating. I wonder often if I didn’t have the anchor of somewhat solid people that surround me-would I burn alive? I know I would. The thought is terrifying, and seductive.
Is it morbid that my obsession is the line between my evolution and my destruction? I constantly wonder which way I'll fall, because in my life destruction has always led to evolution-perhaps I'm just afraid of being content. The thought makes me want to puke.
So perhaps that’s what I leave upon people. A burn that lies beneath the skin-or an itch. I’ve been told by many that I’m magnetic, fascinating, addicting, but perhaps it’s only because I seem to them a tornado blazing through, and they don’t want to miss the sight. So-a compliment, a curse or both?
I’ve heard by many a dear friend-right before they walked out of my life forever-that if they couldn’t have all of me, they didn’t want any of me.
How can I give what I cannot seem to collect? What I have no desire to collect? I always seem to be in the eye of the storm. Nothing calms because I do not wish it to. I am always running for my desire is to do so. Perhaps I feel that in so doing I earn the dreams I have at night. If not enough has been fitted to a day sleep will not come. This is foreign to many, in particular those idle persons that must fill their life by inciting mischief among friends-the detestable cockroaches of mankind that pour negative energy into society because they’ve no wish to become more.
I hear so much speculation on who I am and where I come from, my age and occupation. If you’re looking for my status, I’m afraid you’ll find only disappointment. A forest fire has no status or means to an end-it is its own means, and end.
I suppose that’s exactly what I am as well. I’ve never edited myself nor bothered with pretty speech, though I learned it all as a young woman. I am my own means, I’ll be my own end, and until such time I’ll endeavor to earn my own good opinion.
If you’ve shared my company you know that I am either silent or uncensored. I invest or I leave.
Many have asked me why I operate in such extremes. I do not feel that I do. I operate in concretes. Cause and effect. It’s simple and wastes less time. I’m learning not to invest in the weak, because a forest fire cannot care for the weak, the dependent, the stupid or the cowardly. It is the resilient that remain.
Luckily for me over the years I’ve become delightfully reptilian when it comes to severing ties. It is something I’ve rarely done because I rarely make mistakes with the company I keep.
However, until recently I’ve had a habit of caring for wounded animals. Once I showed them tenderness, however, I was like a fly stuck to glue. I couldn’t seem to untangle myself, and they disgusted me more and more, yet I pitied them more and more. So it was a long, unsavory break.
Luckily I have evolved, and this mental switch has enabled apathy to spread as easily as Aspirin. Thank God, indeed.
I too suffered from obsession and know what it is to burn and hate ones self for allowing another such control over me. I thank God that he had such a switch and was able to turn off so easily. It left me no room for anything but to bleed him out. He taught me many a valuable lesson that I’ll not forget.
A warning-fire is not to be tampered with. Fire does not understand what it is or where it is going. Fire can not be held or understood. It has one purpose-to survive, grow, and complete its course. If I never put the wounded out in the cold, they’ll never learn how to get warm.
