sometimes we are forced into wrong situations. sometimes we can do nothing about it. and at the end of ourselves, when we've given every hope and spoken out earnestly for truth and right and the opposite plays itself out, we can only turn and walk away. love is not a spectator sport.

when one has found true love and chosen untruth instead, they grieve the child-like spirit inside themselves, leaving it by the roadside, turning a deaf ear as it weeps and gently begs for them to check back in with what is really the only real part of themselves. it is unpardonable only because a person without this spirit, is turned over to the desires of flesh, and only on a death bed will they be met by the truth of themselves again: the child they abandoned on the side of the road. this child is life and life more abundant, but the glittered world says no. still, only a child-like spirit can grow. but the stagnant flesh becomes an old adage or laurel, and so begins the long slow justified demise fueled by the eye, and eternally grieved by the heart.

jP 5.15.2o12 iwalu