a match

I've had a headache all day, growing progressively worse as time passes. It has plateaued, perhaps even begun to decrease, in the last hour; whether from the litres of water and tea I've consumed, the six ibuprofen, the two spoonfuls of peanut butter, or simply just giving in to the literal pressure and simply relaxing for a bit. Yet the work biting at my heels will not abate, and the stress only increases the longer it's postponed. I'll resume work shortly.

In addition to the headache, my left eye has been twitching worse than usual. It's a bothersome, uncontrollable and relentless issue, no doubt from stress. That, combined with the frequent outbreaks of hives, are more physical irritations than I could ever wish to endure, especially considering the seven-or-more months they've been occurring. Is there anything to be done? Decrease stress?

Yeah, right...

And, really, nothing is as pervasive as my struggle with the acceptance of uncertainty. How strongly I desire to know! Yet certainty is, perhaps, the most unnatural and foreign concept of humanity; a misleading and dangerous illusion at its very best, and cataclysmic as a rule.

So I cling desperately to the only reliable certainty, Love, as a lit match in unyielding, claustrophobic darkness.

What, or whom, do I love? And for what (or whom) would I sacrifice everything? Those are heavy questions. I think I know the answer. I know what the answer ought to be, and to some degree I hold to it. To some degree, it's more of an assumption that the "correct" answer is already in practice. But beyond that, the answer that rises immediately in response, the one supported by my mind and my heart and my too-emotional self... Risk is always terrifying.

Which leads to the question, of what are you most afraid? And for that, too, I have an answer. Isn't it fundamental to humanity, to fear rejection (in whatever the context)?



I've been drinking so much water (and today, tea), which results in frequent trips to the bathroom. It's a minor nuisance, but mostly it's satisfying and brings an odd sense of pride.





And if honesty comes in conclusion, I am hurting tonight. The absence of peace is pain.