pickles

I really hate blogs.
it's not really because they're tedious or anything. I just don't feel comfortable sharing my writing/thoughts with anyone. I don't know; maybe it's because I'm not used to giving people the opportunity to listen to me. whatever. Mostly, it may be because I'll reread what I've just written and think,

God, I sound so stupid.

I wonder sometimes if I write too much, I'll end up spilling out all my insides, and then I'll have nothing left.

I wonder about that for a lot of things.

Conflict. 

A semi-wise guy once told me that he and his wife always get themselves into these "pickles". And no matter how terrible these pickles are, they both know that at the end of the day, they will always be able to work it out - because they need each other.

Curious, how we come across conflict everywhere - with ourselves, our friends, our family, nature.

Inevitable.

Sometimes I get into conflicts where things just physically hurt so much that life doesn't seem worth the drive. But of course, with time, all battle wounds heal.

that sounded so cliche.

It's true though - we heal, most of us at least. We move on. We learn. So in the end, through conflict there is something wonderful, something worth the pain. It makes me wonder if all terrible things really aren't so terrible - maybe they are just the only ways we can grow.

But then again people learn through other ways without having to suffer. I suppose conflict can simply be seen as a path towards enlightenment, but it certainly is not the only path.

I want to know what it must feel like to take another path. I feel so incredibly narrow-minded when I think only pain can bring about knowledge and understanding. I feel that only experience has guided me through much of what I've learned. And not having to experience what it must feel to learn without suffering and conflict just...

sucks.

And it's important to be honest about what you've experienced, or else the learning process diminishes, and you'll never understand why it happened in the first place. Suppression can only hold back those emotions for so long, before everything really does begin to spill out - not little by little, but all at once. I used to visit my house back in the city, back to a time and place where everything was beautiful, almost perfect. And I'd close my eyes and imagine that: this was the spot where everything I had lost since then had washed up. And I'd look into the rooms and imagine my life all over again, as if I was still 10. But I'd never let the fantasy go beyond that; I wouldn't.

And I would refuse to see anything else, as if I was living in my own past, over and over again.
It was unhealthy for any long term benefits. I had strained myself to the point where breathing hurt so much to remember. It was a conflict I refused to face, I guess.

but it's not like you really care. anyways

So yeah, conflict = good stuff, sometimes, at least in my point of view. I don't really mean the sort of conflict you get into when you're having a cock fight with your best friend. I guess I mean the other sorts of conflicts. You know, internal, emotional, etc. I don't really think many people learn much from physical conflicts, except maybe how to throw a good punch.

The terrible thing about conflicts, however, is that although they heal, there really are scars. A sort of agonizing scar left to remind you. The reminder, in many ways great, but in many ways, quite throbbing. But then again, it's all about perspective. You could choose to look at it through a pessimistic lens, or not.

But you need them, no matter how much shit they've put you through. And sometimes, all you can do is let them tunnel through you, creating caverns inside yourself until you can let everything in. Let them mold you to what you wish to become: integrate and cherish them, for their cultivation will bring you far more strength than you know. 

I tend to feel ambivalent about them. Simultaneously, I feel grateful for how they've educated me. At the same time, I can't seem to forget the pain they've caused me. Fuck. It really does blow when you look at it that way.

So, back to my original point haha. I like conflict in general, I guess (I guess a lot don't I? haha). They teach me what I couldn't learn in a textbook or any book for that matter. And although there is that wonderful little added bonus of experiencing a decent amount of pain, I am thankful. And I'm glad I have conflicts with you, with them, with myself.

Because no matter how big the pickle, I know I need you all.