Cave dwellers

Welcome back friends. This blog post is going to be quite a bit more random than the last. My mind is filled to the brim, with thoughts that just need to come out. So you'll see a bit of poetry perhaps, some aimless rambling, as well as (hopefully) some insight. So come on in, take a seat if you will, and listen.
As we attempt to navigate this crazy maze called life, we do the best we can, with what we've got. No one hands us a manual, and no one tells us which way to go. Of course there is those that give advice, and some who share their life experiences. But are we truly living if we only go on the advice of others? Don't we need to make mistakes ourselves? Feel the beautiful pain that stays with us, and the ugly, terrible happiness that is fleeting? Of course we do. For if we don't, we reside in a bubble that isn't truly life. We skate, and slide through this amazing tragedy that is life. It hurts. It aches, and burns, and breaks us down, and beats us until we think we can't go on anymore. But those of us that have felt the pain, and lived with the torn hearts, with the lost souls that belong to those that don't want them, we know what it is to truly live. Because we feel all the more deeply those moments that are terribly, hopelessly, painfully happy. We see the tiny spark that is our matching soul in the spinning darkness of the abyss. We float through the darkness, rarely seeing the light. We are the cave dwellers, the monsters at the bottom of the ocean. Those that live on the surface, that don't deal with our brokenness, can't understand, don't wish to understand, and never will understand. They have lived in the light of the sun their whole lives, and if they were to descend, would go blind. We are stronger than the surface dwellers. We feel more deeply, we love more strongly, and we live more fully. We are the cave dwellers.

 I don't find comfort in the sunny days. To me, they seem a sham. A façade. Something fake, because it makes everything stand out. But the nights, the days with the cloud cover, and the chill in the air, those are the real days. The days that show the faults. Because without the sun burning, faking, trying to tell everyone that everything is fine and well, we see things as they are. People as they are. We might have more layers on the outside during the real days, but inside we bear our souls. To those willing to see them. as well as to those who also seek comfort away from the façade. But the nights, oh the nights. The moon shines down upon us, showing our faults, showing people's real side's. No one can hide their true selves in the light of the moon. Sure, they can hide their bodies. But not the real side of themselves. Those of us that find solace in the moon, we are the true people. You always know that in the light of the moon, you needn't hide your broken soul, your torn heart, your sundered self. We walk aimlessly under the stars, searching for those with the pieces that fit ours. While we know we may never find them. But that's okay. Because we are the cave dwellers. We can live in the abyss. We don't need the light to survive. We strive for the places where we can watch the lights extinguish one by one, until all there is, is the light from the moon, the stars, and the small sparks of the other lost souls. We are the cave dwellers.

 I wander the roads, wondering where home is. I think to myself, maybe this is my home. Perhaps I was born to always wander, born with a gypsy soul, one that can never truly be at peace. This thought, while it may be unsettling to some, puts me at peace. Because I am therefore home, wherever I choose to be. While my soul may never rest, I am used to traversing the abyss. I am at home where others can never be. I don't need the house with the picket fence, the two car garage. I need the darkness, the light of other wanderers is enough. With the restless soul, perhaps one day it will find solace in another, but It matters not. I am the cave dweller.

 You sit in an office, in a truck, in a store, surrounded by others contented with their lives. You look longingly out the window, to the rising sun, and feel dread. You walk the dark alleys, under the same moon. The moon that has always given peace. The stars of a million eyes shine overhead, and seem to light your path. You seek, and look, and search for a place to rest, a hand to hold, and a heart to have. Of the few you've found, none give what your ripped heart need. You see a spark in the darkness, that of another lost soul, and in it you find solace, for you're not the only one misplaced in this crazy world. Never finding home, with those that are near. Never being contented, always lonely in a room full of people. Surrounded by the light dwellers, you wonder if something is wrong with you. If you're supposed to change to fit their mold of who you're supposed to be. But never fret, they're nowhere near as happy as they seem to be. They are the dwellers of the light. They live on the surface, and pretend they're not drowning. But you know how to swim. The darkness is an old friend. You are a cave dweller. Find peace in this.

  As I sit writing these words, I find they resonate deeply within me. I don't think, I merely let my fingers type what is in my soul. It is calming. I know that i'm not alone, even though i'm lonely. The lights overhead seem to shine too brightly, and cut through the momentary peace I find. While my heart sings the lonely song, I too, see a spark in the distance. I will follow the lights of the others. Because we are the Cave dwellers.


 Thanks for reading this far, and remember, if you're in the darkness, find your spark.
    We are.
    James.