Five Letter Word

Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita
mi ritrovai per una selva oscura,
ché la diritta via era smarrita.

-Dante

Most times when I come to the fires I pay little attention to conversations until my conscious warms up or settles down .. or does whatever it does so I can ... pay attention.

But there are times when voices raised around the fires clue me in rather pointedly that it is a bad time to interrupt. Not that I mean to do so but my arrival just like anyone's can and will. These times I usually do an about face and wander off either to my own fires or the Clan fires. Now this does not happen often .. but lately it has happened more often than not.

To expect this Tribe family to get along better than any other family would be ludicrous. It is not strange or odd that people have disagreements or fight occasionally. It is not strange or odd that not all of them like each other. I have yet to observe a family where everyone liked every member of the family. I do not think that kind of family exists. So it usually does not leave any lingering residue when I hear bickering or cutting remarks. I tend to lose a little respect here and there .. but nothing that can not be regained as that person gets control of their immaturity.

It is also not odd that in the trials and stress of the last few hands of this move that people have turned on each other rather than draw together. Some of the things I have heard do not bother me. They are typical bitching and snapping and gnawing on the bones of those that happen to be convenient at the moment. Most times it is simple annoyance on my part and a desire not to be subjected to it that drives me away to warmer .. more pleasant surroundings. Surroundings where I can have a good .. quiet conversation with someone who actually wants to have a .. real ... conversation with me. I do not come to the fires to work. I work all day .. all night ... long. I come to the fires to share thoughts .. ideas ... dreams. Things that build up during the day or night and swell in my chest with an urge to share it with someone .. anyone who cares to share with me as well.

One instance in particular did bother me though. One sticks like a needle in the moist electrified tissue of my brain. Interrupting and misfiring synapses until there is a dark and terrible storm. If I understood it perhaps I would not harbor this frustration and anger. But it is not for me to understand. It is not for me to even ask to understand. It is none of my business. And yet I care .. I care even though it is none of my business to do so. I care so much that I wish I did not. It does not happen to me often .. I do not like it. I want it to stop. I am enraged by my own impotence in the situation and yet ... I would fight to the death to make sure the rules did not change. Always the rules .. they chain me to my ideals even when my righteous indignation stems from someone else breaking them. And yet .. I would not have it any other way. I would not change my own rules that give others the right to do as they will with their own business. So then what do I do with this? It has not gone away. I thought it would but it has not. Is this what it is like to care for another human being? To feel all the positive things that come with caring and yet not be able to do anything to protect it? What mind fuck is this? This storm rages and I need to speak to someone about it before it consumes me.

Who could create a race of beings and make them suffer like this on purpose? I would scream at the Sky for the sadist it is ... but we are not speaking.