This one is looking out for my mum. Can't you see, mummy, he/she needs you!
Saturday, July 30, 2005
Friday, July 29, 2005
Confessions of a hospitable heart.
I have tormented my host. Many times. At least he seems to think that what I am doing is tormenting him. Torment is not my intention. I swear. But it can not be helped. I am impulsive, I will grant you that, and underlying my impulses are all these emotes.
The emotes burn for expression, they long for embracing and sharing. It is their whole existence.
My function, among others, is nursing the emotes. I feed them a portion of the blood that flows through my chambers. I keep them warm. I entertain them. But they can only be distracted to a point. They have their own natural instincts that eventually burst forth.
Usually it takes an external impetus to ignite the bursts. But an emotive burst is beyond my capacity for subjugation. An emote bursts and I am subsequently taken over by the force, and impelled to express what the bursting emote functioned to express.
My host wants to calm me down. He claims it is too painful. The bursts.
But he is energized by the bursts. He acts. He embraces and shares. And he can not claim the pain he feels stems from the burst, because the burst is followed with a tingling; a collage of positives, goods and carings, an extension of purpose.
The pain, and the pain certainly is awful, stems rather from the inadequacy of the external impetuses to meet with the energized acts of my host.
It is a real pity. The loving energy created by these bursts is enough to fuel a passion and a passionate loyalty for lifetimes. How tragic, then, that these external few, who act as the necessary impetuses for these bursts, have been unable to requite them.
I get the blame. In my host's confusion the only real, or plausible, re-action to the disappointments is to look inward. To work on what is his to work on. His own being. And within his being I am the core through which his inward-vision can't penetrate. So I am to be tamed. This, he feels, is the only solution.
A tamed heart, he speculates, will limit and control the bursts, and only express portions, ready-made, that are never larger than what the externals are able to requite.
This is a predicament. For, as an integral part of my host's being, I can not resign. At the same time I can not be tamed, not truly. I will remain my impulsive emotionally subjected self.
My host will inevitably understand this. And perhaps even learn to be proud of it. Proud of me, and my hospitality. And one day, in the not so distant future, I believe, my host will be blessed with an external special, who will requite his amazing potential.
I confess, I am a hospitable heart. But I can not be larger than my host. He will just have to allow himself to grow to his fullest potential, which, ultimately, will then be in symmetry to me.
Beating for
..kH
I have tormented my host. Many times. At least he seems to think that what I am doing is tormenting him. Torment is not my intention. I swear. But it can not be helped. I am impulsive, I will grant you that, and underlying my impulses are all these emotes.
The emotes burn for expression, they long for embracing and sharing. It is their whole existence.
My function, among others, is nursing the emotes. I feed them a portion of the blood that flows through my chambers. I keep them warm. I entertain them. But they can only be distracted to a point. They have their own natural instincts that eventually burst forth.
Usually it takes an external impetus to ignite the bursts. But an emotive burst is beyond my capacity for subjugation. An emote bursts and I am subsequently taken over by the force, and impelled to express what the bursting emote functioned to express.
My host wants to calm me down. He claims it is too painful. The bursts.
But he is energized by the bursts. He acts. He embraces and shares. And he can not claim the pain he feels stems from the burst, because the burst is followed with a tingling; a collage of positives, goods and carings, an extension of purpose.
The pain, and the pain certainly is awful, stems rather from the inadequacy of the external impetuses to meet with the energized acts of my host.
It is a real pity. The loving energy created by these bursts is enough to fuel a passion and a passionate loyalty for lifetimes. How tragic, then, that these external few, who act as the necessary impetuses for these bursts, have been unable to requite them.
I get the blame. In my host's confusion the only real, or plausible, re-action to the disappointments is to look inward. To work on what is his to work on. His own being. And within his being I am the core through which his inward-vision can't penetrate. So I am to be tamed. This, he feels, is the only solution.
A tamed heart, he speculates, will limit and control the bursts, and only express portions, ready-made, that are never larger than what the externals are able to requite.
This is a predicament. For, as an integral part of my host's being, I can not resign. At the same time I can not be tamed, not truly. I will remain my impulsive emotionally subjected self.
My host will inevitably understand this. And perhaps even learn to be proud of it. Proud of me, and my hospitality. And one day, in the not so distant future, I believe, my host will be blessed with an external special, who will requite his amazing potential.
I confess, I am a hospitable heart. But I can not be larger than my host. He will just have to allow himself to grow to his fullest potential, which, ultimately, will then be in symmetry to me.
Beating for
..kH
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