I think, sometimes, about the many mistakes I have made in the past. The past, like yesterday (or Sunday, specifically). I think, “how quickly will karma come?” I think about how quickly it has come before, when I’ve done things that were on the thin of falling off the moral compass. Often, I believe it’s why I spend so much time alone, or why I have been alone so much.
Other times, I think it’s my fierce affection for others who have enraptured me. It is not just love affairs that have blinded me. Other people mistake my strength as a challenge to see my weakness and exploit it. Or as an opportunity to take advantage – maybe it’s all exploitation and manipulation. I know it all feels yucky and confusing and empty. Sometimes, I try to assign meaning or rationalize or correlate these disgusting mean meanies to bad things I have done, but the truth is: mean people are mean. They like being mean. They need no reason.
This city has been a vicious cycle of false friends and opportunists or judgmental folks who can’t understand that not all free-spirits have wind in their hair and bare feet. I’m opinionated, not rigid. I’m professional, not conservative. I’m vocal, not judgmental. Except with judgmental people, I tend to want to give them a taste of their own behavior – an incredibly pointless exercise which I somehow cannot stop. I am strong because I was built that way, but my strength is independence, scurrying down tiny trails because a feeling led me there, not because the path was well-worn. I still follow a heart-string to the edge of the Universe, which is why I don’t think of myself as a natural leader; not everyone is meant to live on the edge of the Universe…don’t follow me unless you’re sure. Very few people have been sure, which circles back to why I am mostly alone.
So, I did a bad thing, and then immediately, something bad happened to me. Now I’m empty again, not just alone, but actually empty. It’s that rumble in the belly when you’re so hungry, it is no longer a pain, but a hollow… the faintest echo hollering back. For now, I think what is needed is for me to feel the emptiness instead of fill it (see “vicious cycle of false friends”).
Maybe the echo has something to say.