Weapons and Words..

War.. cannot get away from it for a moment. It is there whether you can see it or not, whether you agree with it or despise that it is so. It surrounds us, it compels us and it will shape what our future will be. Whether we wish it to be so or not, it simply is.

Words are much the same way. Once they are spoken, they cannot easily be taken back again. They share with others who we are, though it is the actions themselves that will refute or support what our personalities are, what our hearts and minds and souls are.

Most often I try to match my words with actions, I am not always successful with it, but I do try. I do not expect acolaides for attempting, but the words are not shallow either. I may fail, often.. however, that will not keep me from doing the best I can to follow through and be what I want to be.

There are many I would like to be able to help and support, yet it is not feasible for me to do so. However, when I feel that I can, then I do without hesitation. Practically or morally or emotionally, whatever it is that I can do. It might only be one person that I can aid at any given time, though I wish it were possible to assist many. I can barely keep myself and my cats stable, yet I will do the best I can for another when I know the need is great and when I have a place for them.

Sometimes it can be found to be a mistake, taking one in who has no intention of taking that opportunity and working hard towards finding their path. Yet even though I have been burned many times, still I cannot keep from offering a place if I can.

It comes to a point of whether or not I could live with myself if I had not offered. If the one I would help would be in worse shape, whilst I sit here in a place that is too large for me. Granted, things will be difficult, not easy.. and yet, I cannot keep from doing so, nor would I wish to. Perhaps this is the tiny part of my heart that retains some optimism, belief in others, belief that actions can make a difference.

The same is true in words here, notes that I leave.. I do not expect them to be always believed. For who am I but words on a webpage? Until someone takes the time to know me, I am just another stranger, invisible.. without shape or form.

There are many here who strive to be all things to all people. To be the one that many will surround. I am not one such. I do not expect or even think that could be the case. I have never been other than myself.. for good or ill. When I write, infrequent though it is, it is from the heart, it is from things that weigh upon my mind. When I know I shall be unsettled until I place the words forth. I think that is the case with many here.

For some, they seek to entertain.. yet I have heard that those who do, must then find a safe haven to write of their heart, for too many know what should not be told. These are the ones who have a bevy of notes.. and I am sure that for most of those times, they are glad for them, it is quite like gathering friends close and sharing secrets.

Yet.. for those times when one needs to have a caring ear, when one needs to just be completely vulnerable and honest.. when one needs the quietness, the safety, the peacefulness. I suppose that is why I worry not if many do not read. I know that it is highly likely that my tiny corner of the place here is calm. Even if I retreat from view for days or weeks or months, this place still remains.

The war, the words, the anger, the contempt.. the fierce battles that rage.. I try my best to keep at bay. There are times though.. when I see respect for others is almost unheard of here. Friendships that mean so much one day are gone the next, for the sake of a note or popularity. Sides are drawn as tears fall and we are left to wonder at the snippets we might catch a glimpse of. Ricochet words, they can hit those who briefly wander through.

When taunted to join a fight, I will not. It is not worth the energy or emotion involved. This does not mean I have not the means to do so, nor does it equate cowardice on my part. I much prefer the quiet space that I reside in, where I know my friends and there is no harm from one to another. Some I know in life, some I may never meet, some I hope one day to.. yet for those who have graced me with the gift of their friendship and care, I hope in some small way to return in kind. Not with harshness, not with anger, not with pain.. but with a heart that wishes easement for others.

I suppose in all ways this would make me a pacifist.. and it is highly likely that it is so. Yet who would a child feel more comfortable spending time with? That one who charges at any hint of an enemy, regardless of the colors worn? Who would you feel safest with sharing a moment of confidence? That one who can sit near and listen with quietness, or the one who bellows at all to listen?

Yes.. yet another disjointed entry, one that does not follow the thoughts that swirl within. Perhaps it is that with all the talk of war and of catastrophe and hatred and anger.. I strive for time to hear stillness. I know this makes me selfish in many ways, when those who battle for our sakes and the sakes of others cannot know the same. So I take this moment to try to, before facing the incessent voices tomorrow.