4 lettered words

this REALLY is a blog about nothing.
i'm having yet another existential crisis.
yuck.

i have to be meta-cognitive and acknowledge the ridiculous nature of these quarterly moments of angst--but damnit! i hate feeling this way. my insides feel uncomfortable as i question my Purpose. i wonder if my presence on this planet has meant anything thus far. have i made any impact at all? does my Person have any value?
i blush as i reread those previous sentences. i know how self-involved i'm being--but c'mon: we ALL want to feel validated as a Being. we all grasp for meaning and hope that there is at least a minutiae of significance in our actions and our words, no?

i have to ponder if there is much that i've done since the last time this niggled my consciousness. i know how selfish i am. i chase after insatiable lusts and comforts and get pissed or retreat when something gets in my way. i gnaw on rocks, trying to fill my hunger, only to be chagrined by badly chipped teeth and the not-so-profound recognition that: rocks have no nutritional value.
it's a lesson i get to re-learn every quarter. *sigh*
...
.......
although, i have to say that i'm getting a little better when having these tantrums. i don't feel quite as dark about it all. though i'm definitely brooding about those big Questions, i know it's not the end of my world. irrespective of how troubling i find these meanderings, i always will have some Hope.

maybe that's part of what i'm supposed to be learning this time around. that i don't have to just give into all of those black feelings. that i don't need to fall into the rabbit hole of self-loathing. that resting in certain Joys is always an option.
also, i'm finding that there is a distinct correlation between my exhaustion and my angst. i always feel sucked dry and sick-of-myself-sick-of-life when i'm not really reflecting on those Joys. i don't *have to* wallow. i can remember how much people do care about me. that people like to hug me and laugh with me. that i've at least had a brief moment of connection with every important person in my life in the past 24 hours.
but more importantly, irrespective of my worst, filthy, most violent actions:
i am Loved.
i am worth Dying for.

i know. it's too simple. and inexplicable. but there it is.

my life might not always make sense to me, but knowing those things help me to keep on.
Love. and Death. big words. i know.
i've stumbled across my Purpose a number of times: if there is any Thing i am supposed to do in this life, it is to Love, even when everyone around me seems like a fucking bastard. even when i'm being a fucking bastard.
if there's anything that'll grow and grow and grow from the tiniest of seeds, it is this. Love. *really* planting Love (and even tougher--receiving this seed) softly and surely kills off that selfish beast inside of me. it changes me. it helps me to understand something about the Universe.

shit. so that's my boring conclusion: Life is my confusing hell, and Love is my only true cure.

[existential crisis averted? well, at least i've bought myself some time.]