There are so many things that intrigue, or cause wonder. For example, I wonder what makes people tick, why they do this or that. How does she sleep at night and what is her favorite bedtime story. I wonder what he does when he is bored and does he think about his life or things he might change. I wonder if she would have married different people or if he would have stayed, I wonder if he might have made better choices and then if he did, where would he be. What’s her favorite food and his favorite color. How do they hold their fork and do they eat with their mouths open or closed…. And yet all the while I wonder I am putting a million pieces of a puzzle together, totally unsure if I even put the pieces together in the right order or if by my own ignorance have put them together all skewed and jumbled. I wonder If there isnt picture at all, or maybe there never was one and.. Maybe, there was, but it’s not worth understanding. The real question is, what is the cost to understand these things. For me, it’s priceless to always be on a hunt to understand, to feel, to experience. I want the magical journey of understanding something, and so much so that it’s to the point of pure dissection. Unraveling the tiniest details of a person until there is nothing left but the very fabric of their being, particles and whispers. I don’t care if someone did the same thing to me, it’s just that no one ever has. Atleast none that I ever knew and I think I would since no one has ever asked me a million questions, prying into the very depths and analyzing my most treasured secrets, even the painful ones. I can’t quite say why I do it, or even still what the end goal is. I only know that I seek this knowledge, this ability to understand a person’s soul with fever and veracity. It’s so much apart of myself that curiosity can often fall into obsession. With obsession, I am often questioning if it’s an addiction to know. If what I seek to find is harmful, not for me but whoever it is I am peeling apart. What damage can be done but if there is damage can there not be salvation too?
When I said no one ever did this to me, I wasn’t being truthful. If I had been truthful in that sentence it would have been to say that I, me, myself have dissected, pulled apart and looked closely at myself. I have opened every single file, every dream, wish and memory. I have examined every emotion I experienced from pain and torment to loss, sadness and even joy. I have felt happiness and worn those feelings like a cloak to only further search for more answers. I suppose, all of this is, is just one more way for me to understand myself, almost as much I am letting you understand.
Prophecies Tea 