sometimes it’s just so easy, too easy to be the spectator and say some comforting words, “it’s okay”, “it’s over”, “it really doesn’t matter when you

I won’t even continue because it is so predictable there is no need for me to.

good intentions we have – I do this myself and am in no way demeriting the act of doing so because sometimes, it’s just all we can do. what can we do about the absence of our participation in someone else’s misery? stand by and attempt to solace. (really?)

but it becomes mordantly ironic when we find ourselves in a similar situation later on, and we recall ourselves saying those words

“it’s okay”, “it’s over”, “it really doesn’t matter when you

echoing in our ears and we ask ourselves

why is it so difficult to follow our own commiserations?

and then voices of varying pitches and soothing(?) tones stream by

“it’s okay”, “it’s over”, “it really doesn’t matter when you

those words can be likened to the incessant creaking of the crickets at night –

we don’t hear them anymore because we’ve heard them one time too many.

have we tried saying “it’s not okay, but…”?

“it matters, but…”?

but you will be fine, in the end.

(I don’t even know where this is going but)

so maybe we should just conclude that at the end of the day, we are either “okay” or going to be “okay”

and therefore there is no need to dwell in melancholy

(but who are we to assume that we have the power to defy the ineluctable pevasiveness of feelings?)

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