Broken Voices

A math equation.

Philosophically speaking, of course?

Here we go:

True or False.

Challenges of realties = Fate is resourceful.🙂

True or False.

Geometry is harder than Algebra.

True or False.

Trigonometry is harder than Geometry.

Perhaps you may have “preferred” a different situation, a different equation.

Numbers, can be security. Then again. Sometimes, not.

Depends upon how quickly you cry in the moment? How good a crier in the moment you can be?

Maybe.

The kind of love and fear that both embraces you and at the same time takes your breath away.

Can also take your voice away, too.

Ever feel absolutely tongue tied in the moment? Unable to speak, utter a word, utter a truth.

Fear. Takes your breath away.

Love. Can, too.

Take your breath away in ways both good and bad.

The provocative or provocateurs know what they are doing.

Worse.

They expect your reaction to mirror themselves. Projection of the highest order.

That way. You can be considered the crazy person. Not them.

Worse off. While figuring you may have been right all along.

You wish, all along, that you were wrong.

”Sometimes we are both mastered and controlled by our sinful natures.” Psp. Relying another to scratch our back while we scratch theirs based on a shared experience of well, scratching one another’s back.

Destined to repeat mistakes of the past to prove to the future we were right all along. Playing the game our own way, so as to keep playing the game our own way.

Icky.

What ends up occurring is the messiest of messed up messes and circumstances and situations. Trust is no where to be seen, much less heard or felt. Anywhere within the gutless natures of the moment.

Broken voices. Life can suck the life out of another at the hands of yet another. Sucking out the old hurts and patterns, with the agenda-ed repertoire of intentions to replace the old hurts with new scars.

Perhaps what now exists is a deeper understanding for the mathematically inclined. But. Not nowhere near a remedy for the constancy of the pain.

The pain incurred.

The pain deferred.

The pain caused.

The pain denied.

What occurs? Our inner blindness keeps us in a constant state of perpetual motion—moving nowhere—fast. Or slow. Slow motion replays cut like the knife of the real time moment.

Crime and punishment for some have been the lifelong lesson of living in the shadows of another person’s demons. After all, the punishment never fit the crime of a two year old child, yet the punishment was swift and hasty projected onto the child of 12, 22. At the hands of the adults “in the room.”

We simply did not know how to play the game then. We simply do not know how to play the game now.

Violation and violated go hand in hand for some, but not for others more capable of “getting the ball rolling”,

I guess.

Anyway.

We are left to and with our own devices and oftentimes left with our own vices chattering in another’s head. If we prove to be within earshot of them—in the crazy-making behavior department. Not so much are we lonely. We are constantly wondering from a very young age.

”What did I do wrong?”

What we did wrong was not tell another. Sadly. We could not. Tell anyone.

Anyway.

Our tongue-tied broken voice rendered us,

Speechless.

The cycle continues for far too long a time.

Far. Too. Long.

The memory has a way of filling in the empty mind blanks into a hunky dorey life of sugar and balloons. We watch as others devour the treat.

Us.

Never quite realizing, in the moment, we were their dessert all along. Our inner blindness and challenges of realities journey arm and arm smack dab into a state of confusion. For some. This is the only place to be, to exist. Reality being too difficult to face, manage, live with.

In a state of confusion, arm’s length state of confusionary tactics are employed. Evasive techniques and unanswered questions silence us in a way at the hands of the guy betting on the fact we will crumble under the weight of their games.

Rendering us unable to speak.

Viciousness is as viciousness does. At the expense and cost of a soul no doubt.

When attempting to utter truth, our voice cracks. Our mind wanders. We look dazed and confused.

The remedy? Seek the iron chaperone.

Who?

The one who cares as deeply for us and we do Him.

Deciding to walk through the fire.

With Him.

Is a lesson in fire walking.

Walking through with Him.

Breaks the cycle of violent fear.

Fear. Can silence.

He will guide us through and to, to finish a thought and a coherent string of words. To make sense of the unsensible.

Fear can be hope in the good times. There is hope in the good times that prove our weaknesses are not our only strength☺️.

We can do better.

We can do more for each other not in spite of one another.

The big problemo?

Our broken voices—have become so weak by the constant barrage of lies. The lies must stop. We want to utter, once and for all, the truth. Instead. “It”, the alien enemy, comes out in a garbled, gobbledegooked gunk of garbage.

Lies do.

Truth does not.

Truth is straightforward.

It feels good.

The visual that is pleasing to the eyes?

May leave you turning and sprinting the other way, screaming.

I did not sign up for this, bargain for this.

There is safety in numbers?

Not always.

Is there safety in numbers?

For some it may be the only way to live—the only way life makes sense. The rigidity of the moment. Is what it is.

The rest of the story unfolds in precarious ways. Old cast of characters come along for the ride, thinking the old back scratching ways that worked then, will work again now.

Time will tell.

It usually does.

In the meantime, we can only toil and tend to the task at hand.

For some.

Making it through another day.

Yet.

For others.

Embracing the way a feeling-felt-embrace, embraced us the ability to enunciate the hurt into words or actions.

I think the experts call this expression:

Expressive language.

Before ya get all middle fingered on your neighbor, the maniac in the car next to you—looking at their phone instead of the road.

Whatever it takes.

Stay in your lane.

Why?

The ability not to crash may be notsomuch held in your own hand held device.

The ability not to crash? When placed in the hands of the capable One.

Him.

Hard fought for and hard won trust will keep you from dying inside.

Again.