“She steps off the wall and returns to solid ground. There are more unknowns to see.”
“Would the Water Hug Me If I Fell?”
Fiction. Based on a True Contemplation.
This journal entry is inspired by true events. Some of the characters, names, businesses, incidents, and certain locations and events have been fictionalized for dramatic purposes. Any similarity to the name, character or history of any person is entirely coincidental and unintentional.
Sometimes… sometimes I am overwhelmed. Sometimes it feels as though all the suffering in the world will swallow me up. Sometimes I wonder why, even though nothing, nothing is wrong with me, I am drenched in this deluge of mental anguish. And then I think of the suffering of others, and I feel overwhelmed. Once, I likened myself to a pool of water. I said that people, they drop their stones in, their boulders, whether or not they mean to. It muddies me up, and someday, someday I will be full. Someday my clear, cold essence will cease to exist, swallowed up by the same troubles I sought to dissolve.
I am overwhelmed with sadness. Sadness for the meanness and cruelty in the world around me, and yet livened by the kindness that also exists. I feel coldly and solidly alone, an unwilling, very tall, rocky outcropping, laid bare to the wind, that very few people choose to climb.
Not many people can match your spirit, she said. What if my spirit breaks? What if I lose my spirit in the heartless occurrences of the world around me, in the lost and painful cries of my ancestors? In the pain of a lost baby, a baby whose life was willfully ended, and a woman who will now always be a mother and perhaps never be a mother at the same time? What if I lose my will, my fire, in the painful throes of lost love, barraging me from left, right, and within? Is there anything wrong with wanting a hug? Is there anything wrong with a fascination with water?
Would the water hug me, if I fell?