D.N.A

I swear that if Mother Nature had plans for evolution and created each and every creature with love and care, I'd probably belong to the bunch that were adopted. Either that or during the conception of my breed of people, Her perfect womb must have rejected me as some sort of mutant -- a defect in the great DNA of life.

You see, my main flaw is my temper; the apparent short-lived nature of it, rather. I could never stay seriously mad at people for long. I'd sooner absorb the grieviances between two people and fill the resultant gap with a sort of hippie-tree-hugger-whee happiness. Not that I'm a fool at disregarding and considering the potential faults that people have, or the complications of human relationships; I'm just not one to hold onto anger. If anything, anger would probably be a means to a suitable or desired end. Ironic, but rational, if you took a look at my mutated logic.

Anger would and should never serve as a means to an end; the end would hardly be desirable in the first place. If it should so be desirable, then anger is not justified, but will simply cease to exist because it would become a form other than simply "anger". I guess you could interpret it as a form of wisdom and even a skill. However, this thin line is one I have tried to tread too often, loosing myself in many ways and stumbling over myself more often than not.

Anyway, this is my defective survival instinct: I get over and I move on; not before I pay for the incident with a piece of my naivity or idealism. You see, the dust can get kicked up and will soon settle down -- this I'd surely make certain of. However, the lessons are kept (burned, perhaps) inside, and that's where the damage is done. Anger, if any, is suffered and not externalised. Cynicism and doubt which would surely surface is turned upon my own beliefs instead of on other people. Foolish? Perhaps...

While love can't keep us alive, it certainly can make a lot of things right. While to love is to risk getting hurt etc..., the former would soon loose its meaning without the latter. As Bon Jovi croons in Learning How To Fall, "... just like the poet needs the pain."

So many times, I have felt trapped in the cycle of my own flawed logic and reasoning. I know that it'll be a matter of time before I move on. I know that it'll be a matter of time before the inevitbale happens for her. I know that things will be alright, whatever it may entail.

I know that I would, for some reason, forgive her for all that she's done, in exchange for a fragment of what we had formerly. Heck, I'd forgive her for next to nothing at times. I know that my actions might stand for and achieve nothing, but there seems little that I can do otherwise. I know that I shouldn't go ahead and hurt myself. But I do anyway, because it's the logical thing to do, when you refuse to dishonour others.

What does the knight do when he gets upset with the politics and royal affairs?

Yeah, that's right. He goes to the tavern to drink, and maybe get into a fight or two with the local riff raffs. He'd sooner die than abuse his squire, best mates or princess.

Why do I work so hard now? Yeah, go figure.

I'm no knight or hero. I'm just trying to look for some form of truer love. Is it so bloody hard, seriously? I'm such a pathetic sucker for this notion that I always find myself playing the fool for it. Now all I have is an idea I can't get out of my head and a suggestion of what it may feel like.

Find another? Dare, I risk it all again? Dare I even risk waiting?

I'll just be saving up for it. Both Europe and New Zealand are pretty far away... But I'm sure it'll be worth it... It had always been worth it anyway.



JKLM