Content

If the act of creating anything is underscored by the tension experienced from not doing anything, then let this be proof of doing something out of sheer will.

In the meaningless that is the universe, let there be meaning in my words.

Even if it's just to me.

But I cannot sit by and expect that the best I can hope for is to wait for my time to pass.

There needs to be something more in this world than what there currently is.

Though that is only possible by changing my own limitations.

Including the limitation created by believing this feeling will ever go away.

Not acknowledging the parts of our existence that are destructive to us is what allows them to fester.

If one were able to visualize the fractures in their mind like the pipes in one's house as leaky, well, maybe mental health would be something people talked about more.

But it's not. It's invisible.  Masked whenever we say we're doing fine.

Fine.

More like Fucked up, Irritated, Neurotic, and Emotional.

In the realm of self-expression, humans have capabilities of being objective and subjective.

But the values we take with us to the realm of expression are limited to what we believe in.

What we believe in within the frame of our ideas are limited to what we know.

What we know in the context of mental health is limited to how we are taught to love ourselves.

How we are taught to love ourselves is limited to our primary caretakers.

Our primary caretakers are likely human.

Humans are not perfect.

In fact, most are just 'fine'.

Fine enough to reproduce and get you to 18 alive.

Just past the finish line of minimum expectations for a parent.

Survival of a child is all a parent is responsible for.

But, and this is no fault to them, fine doesn't get you across the finish line of self-actualization.

Fine doesn't push one past the experience of just surviving and into thriving.

Fine is just existing. An ellipses.

Saying you're fine is the easiest way to verbalize anything to another human that is literally saying nothing and yet everything at the same time.  

It's a placid surface in what is obviously a raging torrent of emotion covered by a sheet of sheer will.

It says how you feel is not applicable to the moment.

It says 'move on'. Gloss over me. Please don't lift the cover.

Fine is corporate talk for 'present' in a meeting.

My body is here, my mind is not.

For if I were anything but fine, I'd probably be fucking insane.

Why?

Because hearing the word 'fine' drives me fucking insane.

Hearing someone say they're fine in a time when life is more ambiguous, on a species level, than ever is utter bullshit.

Why?

Because hearing the word 'fine' from people who I know can't handle ambiguity is utter bullshit.

How do I know?

Because your girl here can handle herself some ambiguity or seven.

In fact, I thrive in it.

It's only when I am in matters that are certain that I find myself utterly lost.

And only when I am lost, do I truly feel myself.

So when I hear someone say they're fine, I cannot help but to call a spade a spade.

What is going on under the hood?

Clearly that is more important than what is going on outside of you.

The more we try to control things around us, the more we feel out of control inside us.

It is only by embracing the chaos, do we find stability in our thoughts.

No longer chasing what things ought to be.

Just being the change we want to see.

Or some bullshit like that.

It's fine... I've already made my point.