J the Obscured

Seems I'm really racking up the failures lately.

I sense that in some key ways I've been kept in the dark about many things, some intentional, some not, some very likely unconscious. But I can't honestly blame others for such obscurantism, because I'd be lying if I said I didn't detect some of the tell-tale inconsistencies, fissures, and behavioural shifts that indicate that 'something' (whatever it ultimately is) is up. I can ultimately only blame myself for not trusting in my own instincts, and for allowing myself to hope more in what I wanted than in what I could see. In all of the instances of which I think right now, the error is finally mine, hard as that is to admit. I should have known things were off if only I'd accepted that the blips on my radar weren't errors of the machine but actual problems in the skies. Perhaps the most dangerous thing is to let desire delude us into believing against our own healthy disbelief, to believe the lies we tell ourselves just because we want them to be true.

One does one's best, and one tries to follow the path of the ideal rather than the callous or the cynical. One tries to do the right-est thing. And when that goes wrong, all one can do is accept and fare forward, with or without regret.