The End Of The Innocence

I have rummaging for analogies to describe an upheaval. It started off with spiders' webs, all entangled yet cohesive, but with one spider's doing, a large tear opens up in the fabric.The tear isn't detrimental, just destablising and disturbing to onlookers. The flies still get caught and eaten. Just fewer maybe till the tear is healed as the spiders intervene. Another perpespective to this would be of a windscreen.On a car, keeping the air and bugs and dirt out. But being held in such tension, all it takes is a simple, sharp spike to shatter. And boy does it shatter, much like a spider's web. All the pieces stil in place, held together by friction and superficial bonds. The fragility is alarming. Swift and sudden streaks break across the transparent vista, blurring everything. You could still drive but really carefully. I have thought of applying a machine, working without a few parts, or a computer where one program does not want to work but the rest of the device still functions (much like my Bluetooth software). Sounds lame, and that's how i feel.

This abnormality in relations may last. Even if hands come to be shaken and eyes start to meet, it is not something that is easily forgotten. Scars remind us. A wise man, younger than I, once told me to 'Let it go'. Apply liberally to all things, especially emotions that hold us back from the greater realm of enlightenment. It is very difficult, I am human (no matter how superhuman I want to be). This is the same fabric that holds us all sane. The fabric is now torn, and shame is worn for all to see. I am afraid this tear isn't going to be easy to fix. The glue to fix this shatter will have to come from the farthest places. Inside intangible, bottomless nooks, and nursed with time.

And I am disappointed, and in true Virgoan fashion, both with myself and those around me - has all this time meant this little? Makes you wonder about ties that bind. Am I the only fool? I have been asked to initiate healing. Yet I am adamant. False pride? Misplaced chauvinism? Fear of giving in? Anger? I don't know. And it will eat me. It has already started rumblings in the cogs of my mind, oiled by my insecurities, fueled by the Devil inside.