For long, the discrepancies between what roams on the surface and what bubbles underneath vexed me so. I saw this as a form of deceit, and it angered me greatly. Over the course of recent years, I tried all sort of tricks to approach it. You name it: pointing out people’s fault up on the front, dissing hypocrisies of communal niceties, ignoring comicality of power plays and puppetries, et cetera, et cetera.
Until repeatedly I learned, you simply can’t confront the shadow by shedding light onto it. It doesn’t disappear, it just cease to be visible. It is one sly beast, lurking behind the shades. Glancing at you from behind the trees, readily jumped back into the dark once you gets closer. You’ll never get near, no. The dark is his domain.
Nevertheless, it’s the price of any existence, it seems. Otherwise, why would intestines be tightly and beautifully wrapped inside belly skins? (Truly, I wonder, why aren’t we walking transparent vessels showcasing our pumping veins on live mode?)
Vital to any being, but need not to be visible. Inner workings are sacred that way, perhaps. And just maybe, on day to day basis, so as not to lose sanity, we do need the mercy of palatable facades.
Anger springs forth from things you can’t control, they say. So I stopped protesting in my head. “It’s just the way it goes.” And, just like that, I felt a tad less depressed (which makes up the gap between getting out of the bed versus going vegetable all day). Nowadays, I can make a pass on personal hypocrisies. Pious on the streets, freak beneath the sheets. Yes, yes, no problem. Softie on the outside, violent behind closed doors. Alright, alright, suit yourselves (just, count me out). Once pass the bitterness, this turns into a farce I indulge in sipping every now and then.
One simple spotting trick you might enjoy: anything anyone do in excess, more often than not is done to make up for the (perceived) lack in the other polarity. Even more fun: these days instagram makes it easier to spot what’s what.
Oh, for the love of bejeezus. That’s not brash. It’s just, there seems to be a set of conventions of what to talk and to not talk about, which does not come as naturally for me. So, again, society, thank you for the alienation and the sneering and the silence and everything nice. I learned the hard way, firmly carved, that there are layers of deliveries to approach these things. Awkward at best, most of times, tilting between too cowardice to speak out, or too blunt to be heard. But, yes, I steadily learn.
For fun, though, I sometimes might tick people off by pointing it out loud. It’s funny. Just how easily people gets ticked off when their facade is so fragile and tightly guarded. How a single call out would throw them berserk. (Other times, though, some folks do stand out by the elasticity of their ego. Love em.)
Ah, but that’s too cruel, isn’t it? Again, it’s a bit counterintuitive if we aim to catch the beast. At most, it will only drive it away further into the woods, protected by the towering trunks of ego.
Alright, alright, personal hypocrisies are ‘alright’….ish.
Until they spiral into something else, something bigger. A casual overindulgence and ignorance, leading one to take what’s not theirs. To tread beyond boundaries of others’: bodies, minds, consciousness. Abilities to make choices. The right to speak up. They take and take and take, thinking no one’s looking. Thinking that everyone’s making a pass. By fear of victims, or brotherhood in abuse.
But here I am, watching.
I remembered what you did. Yes, you. I took those years making sense of what happened. I weaved the loose threads of why, and why, and why. I played judge amongst my-selves: the one who took myself for a fool, and the one who insist on pointing fingers at you. The one pounding my skull to the wall, and the one banging yours. The one wanting to hide, and the one yearning to rip your face lovingly woven facade.
It takes times indeed, to pinpoint the shape of it. Running my fingertips around it, finding the gooey part. The throbbing veins, the heart. Of this facade you erected and burn incense to, hoping it will protect you no matter what. Tell you something right here, pal: when the time comes, it won’t be enough.
Along the way, I saw the likes of you.
I’ve thought of them as an evil thing to avoid, to protect myself from.
Then I’ve begun to meet the likes of me, too.
And that’s when it dawns me. These are pebbles, laid out carefully to be followed. It holds my hand solemnly, leading me nowhere other than back to you. By then I know, it doesn’t matter when, or how long: I will get there.
And on that day, I will make you pay.
***
July 28th, 2020 — Moon in Scorpio.
Today it’s in Sagittarius.
TALE WHISPERER 