time vs. fear: round one. or, what breaks as easily as a camera?

and a clue is a reasonable thing to give. when all other gifts are exhausted and material items cant breathe beneath the value of one word. one word that means a world, or at least the difference between one world and another and any list of others that neatly organize themselves among possibilities. fear, or at least the brink of it, of that uncertainty of knowing whether fear should even be a minute on your clock, is enough to drive the bus home without the children on it.

but some clues are disguised. or hidden beneath uncertainty. when one thing seems certain, when it is the reason that you breathe and feel and love and remember and expect. and then that certainty seems uncertainly uncertain. when goals and plans become a possibility, or not. those are the times that fear is reasonable.

but how do you know. and should you prepare for the storm? he who gathers bags of sand and bread and milk for a spring shower is a fool. all that toilet paper is good to have...you wont have to go shopping again, but why stock pile something that takes up so much room when you really dont need it? fear and attachment issues are not something as easily stackable as rolls of thin paper. more like bread, as they grow old in the face of needlessnesss, they become stale and mouldy and ruin an otherwise good kitchen.

but how do you know? do you? should you? a weatherman is just a weatherman. he can no more predict the weather as a traffic man can predict accidents. and weather and traffic and potential loss is all lumped into one general category of potential pain staked against uncertainty. theres that word again. that fear of losing what was once that safety. that warm feeling. a mattress, a camera, shoes, meals, plans, a love for that one yellow house, weekend trips, an anniversary. all things that comfort like crawling under a fuzzy blanket. all like a scarf around your neck when the wind is ripping at your throat. but they are just part of plans that, when not carried out, when lost, when forgotten, when...changed...for whatever reason, are just loss.

and how do i know. if the other doesnt. security in the face of a regression is empty. but to not put value in that promise is to force a depression. probably a needless one. but how do i know?

change is what keeps my planet spinning. but we spin around a sun that can go dark. still bright on my side of the world, but there is still a whole hemisphere that i cannot control. i cant see it any more than china can see argentina. smiles are real, and words mean worlds, but change, a reversal of the planet, can destroy the world through inertia.

words can only reassure. and doubt is slightly redundant. but how do i know? and will i ever again? redundancy is a sure way to dig a hole. to push. but fear is a sure way to hurt. needlessly? and questions not asked eat. or at least chew and chomp till unrecognizable and useless.

fear. it all comes down to that one basic human instinct. the one from which wars have stemmed, from which anger can grow, and sadness flourish. i'm sure it can be defeated. but how do i know.


doubt is something wholly different. doubt is a lack of trust. theres no room for it, and i dont harbor. i dont share my space with unneeded visitors. doubt is a step from cheating. and thats not me. but fear can flourish without doubt. fear can make, or break, or strain. and i just want to know.


limbo. not just a game, but a horrible place to live and work and love. it has infiltrated a place previously inhabited by certainty and hope. i dont want it there. but what can i do. questions. answers. words, fear. change.


love.


and what is eternal? what outlasts change? does it? can anything? can something given unconditionally and freely and selflessly and in the face of the possibilities produce a return? i know it is there. i know it has been. i feel it, i see it, i hear it. but is it going to stay? is there room? can a person be baggage? extra weight? a hinderance? a comfortable place full of warmth but no promise?



is there room? its a reasonable question. it eats more than fear. its a name brand fear, not the generic type. it has a face and lungs and has breathed its hot breath down my neck for weeks. change takes up more space than a queen sized mattress. and pressure isnt the goal. what is two years in the face of life-altering change the size of a country? is there room? will there always be room? re-evaluation is natural, understandable. needed. but is there room?