I Am Introspective
Introspectively wandering through my solipsism.
I spend a lot of time looking back. Perhaps too much. Yet, I haven't ever been able to help it. I've been this way as long as I can remember. Some say that it's detrimental to stare too long upon your past to try and find the points in time that changed things. "After all..." they say, "there's nothing to be done about it now." While they might be correct, I've learned a great many things about myself by doing so. Some good, and some bad, and most definitely all me.
Whenever I scroll through my memories, it's much like watching a bad movie. There's all manner of boring sub plots and unexpected twists. Lost time, lost dreams, and lost loves. There are moments of grandeur, and miles of pathways that I've traveled. Wasted wishes, and poisonous people. Friends, family, and the forge fires of life that molded and made me. The many ever-burning circles of my life projected and displayed through my own warped recollections.
As I peruse them all, I see my iniquities and short comings. All magnified by the passage of years, and an inner self loathing I haven't ever been able to shake free of. Condemning fingers point at me and I realize that those fingers belong to myself. Blaming and accusatory. Fingers of righteous indignation...., Always pointing.
I am mostly accepting of it all. For what else is there to do ? One cannot fight the memories of the past without using lies and falsehoods, to hide from view the things done that displeased them, or offered them regrets. I've never been able to lie to myself. Therefore, I writhe under my own microscopic inspections that dissect me into the lesser pieces that make me whole. Like a well performed pathological examination, I reveal everything that has gone before. Often times more critical of my own actions than is possibly deserved.
But, who decides what emotions we each deserve in our judgements of our own past ?
Though it is true enough that the condemnation of others holds little sway upon me, I cannot escape the judgements I cast upon myself. All I can do is accept and continue on my way. Waiting for an ending that someday will claim me and release me from the world. Freeing me from it all. Hopefully leaving behind people with kinder thoughts of me than I hold for myself. For in all my feelings searched, out of all the scattered thoughts, within all the many memories of people, places, and times gone bye, I only see through my own fog laced mirrors of judgement.
The pathways of life wind, and there's no telling where those pathways will lead you. With so many pathways now behind me, and so many dreams and wishes traded away in favor of the people I've loved along the way...., All I can do is trudge along with little hope, forgotten dreams, and a lasting wish that in the end I might be remembered as an alright guy that perhaps made a few people smile.
Such are the results of Introspectively wandering through my solipsism.
~The Snowdog
I spend a lot of time looking back. Perhaps too much. Yet, I haven't ever been able to help it. I've been this way as long as I can remember. Some say that it's detrimental to stare too long upon your past to try and find the points in time that changed things. "After all..." they say, "there's nothing to be done about it now." While they might be correct, I've learned a great many things about myself by doing so. Some good, and some bad, and most definitely all me.
Whenever I scroll through my memories, it's much like watching a bad movie. There's all manner of boring sub plots and unexpected twists. Lost time, lost dreams, and lost loves. There are moments of grandeur, and miles of pathways that I've traveled. Wasted wishes, and poisonous people. Friends, family, and the forge fires of life that molded and made me. The many ever-burning circles of my life projected and displayed through my own warped recollections.
As I peruse them all, I see my iniquities and short comings. All magnified by the passage of years, and an inner self loathing I haven't ever been able to shake free of. Condemning fingers point at me and I realize that those fingers belong to myself. Blaming and accusatory. Fingers of righteous indignation...., Always pointing.
I am mostly accepting of it all. For what else is there to do ? One cannot fight the memories of the past without using lies and falsehoods, to hide from view the things done that displeased them, or offered them regrets. I've never been able to lie to myself. Therefore, I writhe under my own microscopic inspections that dissect me into the lesser pieces that make me whole. Like a well performed pathological examination, I reveal everything that has gone before. Often times more critical of my own actions than is possibly deserved.
But, who decides what emotions we each deserve in our judgements of our own past ?
Though it is true enough that the condemnation of others holds little sway upon me, I cannot escape the judgements I cast upon myself. All I can do is accept and continue on my way. Waiting for an ending that someday will claim me and release me from the world. Freeing me from it all. Hopefully leaving behind people with kinder thoughts of me than I hold for myself. For in all my feelings searched, out of all the scattered thoughts, within all the many memories of people, places, and times gone bye, I only see through my own fog laced mirrors of judgement.
The pathways of life wind, and there's no telling where those pathways will lead you. With so many pathways now behind me, and so many dreams and wishes traded away in favor of the people I've loved along the way...., All I can do is trudge along with little hope, forgotten dreams, and a lasting wish that in the end I might be remembered as an alright guy that perhaps made a few people smile.
Such are the results of Introspectively wandering through my solipsism.
~The Snowdog
