the wandering polar bear. issue hurts for though my head and my faith as well as life experiences can provide me personally various ways of responding, i cannot, I think provide a answer that is solid.
chronicles of life into the tundra.
Monday, Might 30, 2011
dropping once more
There has been a question that, for the time that is longest, i had worries of asking. i've constantly understood exactly how critical I will be, particularly it is not too so with me with myself, and though answering this question may come so easy or so simple to many. I usually think to always respond to truthfully, really, and unless I could qualify, quantify, justify my responses, however instead avoid issue altogether, lest make an erroneous, a whole lot worse, a answer that is false.
I might have reports from it, some ideas from it, tales from it, but then i feel i draw from a deep and empty well if i were to extract from my own personal experiences. I do not think i'm love-less. i however believe that my head usually, unfortunate since it is for me personally to acknowledge, block off the road of feeling. perhaps when meant to draw from my fine, I actually do so using the slotted container of my brain, constantly ready to accept recommendation or even to thought that is new hardly ever really tightly grasping onto instead complex and profound tips such as for example love.
we usually shudder in the idea, frequently when lost in deep introspection. my much deeper self would ask simply how much do i love and I also always find myself at a lost for terms. I will be caught speechless ever time, plus the weight myself, always severe, always calculating, would suddenly get dropped and i am left without defense, naked, frail and bare, vulnerable to the harsh reality of my shallow existence, subject to my own chastising now of never learning to appreciate, enjoy, cherish the many affections that come my way that i often carry.
