Order and chaos, chaos and order

What is oh-so-complicated to explain, even to myself, collapses down to the simplest of ideas in the end.

We don't expect the stories of our lives to be simple. We want them to, we want to understand, but we are so used to there being hidden agendas, secrets and misunderstandings that we live in, believe in, the most complex of worlds. And yet things can collapse, one by one and then with a rush like a broken dam, to a few simple words.

I tried to think how I could explain to someone, if they asked, what exactly I think of them. My thoughts could birth an essay of a thousand words, and in the end, they might still be incapable of getting it. I could speak with as much detail and poetry I could muster, and things would remain unsaid, misspoken, imperfect.

And then I realized I am telling them my thoughts every day I see them. With my face and voice, I speak how they are precious to me and how they frustrate me. How I cannot understand them and how I know more about them than they want me to know. Things that are, that could be or that never should.

I speak of my love and care with my face, and that they are undying. And then, the whole beautiful structure begins to fall to the ground with my guilt over a few words I cannot quite deny.

"I did love you, and that doesn't end, just - change." "Yeah? So what? You love EVERYONE."

Ah the tools of Elljay - POLITICAL

So, being bored, I went through the "memories" entries I had saved.

I took another gander at a friend's post detailing the situation of Germany leading up to WWII. It was - very frighteningly familiar, compared with recent history. Intended to be so, but still. The parallels were emphasized but NOT exaggerated.

From the day that was written to this, our country has slowly but surely diverted from the path of 1930s Germany. I'm trying to figure out what, precisely, is different. (And don't you dare say "We're America, that's what!". We are as flawed as anyone.)

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