Chelsz

This is taken from a longer journal entry I wrote a few weeks ago.. sometimes my mind starts to wander away from what I’m actually trying to write about…

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You know, I cry, because people I love, don’t even like me, whether they’ll admit it or not, but like, I don’t like them either. Why do we continue to force it? Can you actually call that love? 

Like, hey I’m only here because I’ve decided in care about you to a degree of love, and love means I stay.. love is hard to stop.. oh well if we are miserable. 

People literally use that language. They speak of how they’d rather argue with the one they love than laugh with another. What is this love? Are we taught it? Shown it? It feels so irrational to me. 

I feel love for every being I engage with. My heart bursts with it, even the evil ones. Love has come to feel like a given to me. Perhaps love is a basic truth that we deny in order to protect ourselves because if we allowed ourselves to default to love, we would have to care. 

We would have to care that people on the other side of the world are being bombed, we would have to care that our purchases have deep consequences. We would have to think before we speak, we would have to apologize, we would have to go without, to sacrifice, to think of others, think about where we build and what we take. 

I suppose this is what they are speaking of when they say hate is easy, love takes work.