Insidious

 

Where is the point where a human being becomes flawed?

At what age does something impact us so dramatically?

When do our eyes cease to see what is there and begin to imagine?

Do we decide to be the forever flawed clone of our mother, or grandmother?

Or is it a foregone part of our maturation in the chrysalis of our childhood?

Is it possible to escape the ties that bind?

When I was three my entire world moved. I did not notice any changes except those of the house in which I ate, slept and played.

Closer to five I moved again. This time leaving behind friends outside the family that I knew and played with. This phenomena of leaving people behind continued throughout my childhood. I learned that anyone and everyone can be lost to the present. The only constant is immediate family, or, eventually, myself.

Moving house, death, major life changes such as marriage or divorce, can all result in losing those people formerly associated with life before.

I was born to be alone. Anything else is only a momentary experience in the saga of what I call my life. Each of my siblings clung closer to home, but the cost is dear.  Repeating the sins of the past only enlarges them, blowing them out of proportion. Creating a breeding ground for putrefaction that we try to blame on other people, or things.

Branching out, leaving home, exploring other ways and means is our only hope of avoiding inbreeding and the insidious absorption of ideas, believing they are the only ones.

Loneliness is a by product of growth that can only be avoided if we constantly reach for the light.