I take a lot of shit. I always do. Most likely, I’ve also taken shit from you.
Don’t worry, it’s ok.
I know my ways are particular, and I’m true to the path I’ve chosen. I hate for the shit to spread and reach the little untainted places, hearts, left.
I’ve also been part of that shit. I’ve lied, hurt, and stained the very thing I live to protect.
I feel it’s like a way to redeem myself for the pain I’ve caused. Even though I know it won’t change a thing for those I mistreated. To prevent others fron hurting people the same way I did. To help others understand the kind of pain they’re being inflicted and help them cut the cycle.
I have to admit it’s a very difficult choice. The choice of not fighting back. The choice of actively identifying opportunities to make a difference on someone else’s life. It’s exhausting.
It’s infinitely rewarding too!
Most of the time I get to see those grateful eyes that tell me it’s worth it. Sometimes I get such a battery recharging hug, that puts me back together for another set of rounds. Other times I get radio silence and forever unread messages. Even then, I end up feeling it was for a greater good.
However, there’s a part of it I haven’t figured out… Will I ever fill up? What happens if I get to a point in which I feel that I can’t take it anymore?
I mean, I never ask for anything in return. Not for this, not for treating people well. Not for anything. But, hell, I wish for sometimes to be surprised! To receive those little sparks of the universe that makes you feel lucky and fortunate and cherish even more what you do, the joy of being alive! Those things create more room for taking more shit in, and continue my selfish crusade.
If I fill to capacity, will I explode or will I implode? Will it be a big bang, or a quiet swoosh? Will someone hold me or would I ought to rebuild myself from scratch?
Perhaps I really don’t want to know.
Hope we don’t ever figure out.
Have a great day!