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The Precarious World

On the choice to remain

To remain alive despite the absolutely horrifying prospects for earthlings of all species.
To keep trying even though I seem to get it wrong every time.
To believing that there is something worth loving even as everything around us crumbles.
To remain present, to look at pain in the eye and say "que me quiten lo bailao", to more dances.

I am starting this new capsule on a day filled with misery for myself, but not by any means more miserable than any other day in the history of our species, of our planet. I look around me and I see war and famine and death and illness and all those apocalyptic omens and I feel crushed by grief. I look at my life, I look at how small it is, how plain and empty, how bad I am at making the world better in the face of all this pain instead of worse and the black hole in me grows, and grows, and devours everything warm.

I'm not a religious person, my faith lies in the mundane and it ebbs and flows like the tide. I'm okay with this, on the good days, and that's all I can ask for. Today it's meagre and wobbly like a weak flame, I have talked to old friends turned strangers, turned thorns, and I am grieving.

I am writing this because I don't want this grief and guilt to end me. I want to learn from it, I want to be better, I want to understand that pain lies ahead in all fronts and that it is no reason to give up on this precious, miraculous planet.

I want to remain.

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