…And the Mountains Moved and the Spine Contorted

I am, in many ways, a simple person.  I am highly egocentric and I do not tolerate discomfort.  This has led to the burning of many bridges in which I dart into the night, never to be seen again.  I am slowly learning that sometimes bridges can be rebuilt, though.  I may not be apt to avoiding my arsonist ways any time soon, but I can rebuild what I destroy.  I can also rebuild what simply had to collapse under its own weight.

The manner in which I am the culprit behind the crumbling of mountains into desolation is well noted.  A new phenomenon, however, are those bridges that collapse and those mountains that are ground into dust simply because physics dictates it.  I can only stretch so far.  In times of crisis, I am typically cold-hearted and achieve results where others falter, and this is certainly true.  However, I am also learning to show compassion – an action that is not native to my mind or my hands.  When tragedy befalls another, I can do what I have always done, which is act with a cold indifference, or I can show the devastated a piece of humanity that they did not know I possessed.  I do not know whether this compassion – those actions I consciously put forth in discordance with my natural state – is innate or constructed, but I also suppose that it does not matter.  What does matter is the effect that it has on my psyche.

I am egocentric.  I can only give to another so much before I begin to suffer pain with the most grotesque of contortions.  My spine reaches its breaking point; my limbs are ripped from their sockets.  Why would I subject myself to this?  Sometimes, the bridges do not collapse as the result of my own doing.  Sometimes, I must use my strength to keep them in place and to let interpersonal relationships flourish rather than flail, even if those interpersonal relationships would otherwise fail due to no fault of my own.

…and so the mountains moved and the spine contorted.  These are superhuman acts that cannot be called upon frequently, but they are nevertheless possibilities rather than impossibilities.  Do not take my compassion for granted but do not expect it either.  It is a burden more massive than any element, but it is a burden that the present incarnation of myself can call upon when it is truly needed.  This is a reminder of the humanity that lies beneath the inhumane form.  The inhumane and humane coexist in the most dangerous of dances; their tango carried out with the utmost precision.  One can live without the other, however.  And, in me, the inhumane should be assumed the default, because it is.  But, I can shove it aside for those times when I must, and I can see with human eyes what lays before me.  Unnatural?  Yes.  Impossible?  Only as impossible as it is to move the largest mountain and to embrace the breaking point of my back.  Don’t make this an act I have to visit often.

...And Her Tongue Was Cut Out and Her Hands Amputated
...And the Animals Were Given Voices

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