A cycle of introspection

A voice from deep within asked him: "What is it that makes you whole?"

In an empty desert, on a path chosen long ago, he stopped for a moment.

He didn't wonder who the voice belonged to, he already knew. He always knew when his conscience was talking. As always, it kept taunting him or at least he thought it was.

"I've given up on being whole long ago, I've accepted it... to be broken, to have fallen..."

His voice was weary, tired even. Not from the endless walking, but from this ever repeating cycle of questioning. In a way, his answer felt rehearsed. This didn't justify thinking, so he didn't. An auto-response to an auto-generated series of questions. He had no answers, so why bother.

"Must be nice, running away, avoiding the difficult questions, but there is an obvious flaw in your reasoning."

Sometimes it scared him, this invisible voice. Ever so often, it would try to break the cycle by approaching him from new angles. This was a new angle. At times like these it made him wonder if the questions were really a result of auto generation or was his conscience just indulging him, giving him time and space. It didn't matter he told himself. He really wanted it to be true.

"I'm not avoiding anything, you keep asking the same questions over and over and I keep giving you the same answers. A flaw in my reasoning... I'm not running away from anything. Just walking this path of mine... There is now flaw, only a choice and a commitment to it."

Sometimes he wondered whether talking to it actually encouraged his conscience to talk even more.

"You haven't answered anything, just made excuses. You try running away, even from me. You can abandon everyone and everything, but you can't escape me."

That was true and he knew it, too. He couldn't run away from his conscience, but he could ignore it. And over the years, he had become numb to its questioning, like an annoying fly that would plague him from time to time, but nothing that could harm him. That's what he wanted to believe... that's what he needed to believe.

"And yet, you're so afraid of confronting yourself with the questions, that you keep inventing new stories, new explanations to ignore me. So I'll ask again, and for once, don't run away from the question. What is it that makes you whole?"

He didn't want to answer, but also knew that he couldn't ignore it forever. It just didn't work. So once more he tried to think about the question, in earnest and tried to answer, without believing he could deliver anything new. After all, he had already said everything on this subject before.

"I looked for happiness in life through relationships, material possessions and spritiuality. Of these three only spirituality got me the nearest to feeling happy. But I'm weak, so I failed repeatedly
of nurturing my soul and that option quickly fell apart. I won't talk about material possesions as nothing material will ever make me happy. I sought happiness in relationships, but always failed to actually make a relationship work. I know I'm the reason why it doesn't work and many men suggested I might need to change, but that, too, was never an option for me. For I can never abandon who I am as it is what defines me. I'm not an actor and wouldn't be able to play the part for too long anyway. But of course, is happiness alone what could make me whole? No, maybe a purpose. And a purpose I found and made a choice. That's why I'm walking this path. I don't feel whole though, as always, something is missing. Something doesn't feel right. Maybe I don't feel whole, because I'm trying to escape my biological programming, who knows. I don't. So here I am once more, unable to answer properly. I don't know what makes me whole for I have always felt broken. And once you live in a state like this for too long it becomes the new normal. So I'm broken, I have fallen, but I have a purpose and I walk this path."

He had played this game many times to know that while giving an answer, he was starting to make excuses. At points where he didn't want to confront the reality, he driveled on. And to him, the logic was sound, but something within kept nagging, "You're lying", which is why he always felt his answer to be lacking. But in earnest, he didn't know what it was he was avoiding. He only knew that he was.

"So what is it that has broken you?"

Another new angle. Maybe his conscience was giving up finally. Abandoning its trusted chain of questions in favor of an unusual question as he thought.

"What has broken me... hmm... good question."

"It's the same question actually, just phrased differently."

It was true. Just the other side of the same coin.

"People have broken me. Trust placed in people that have torn it apart and abused it. Maybe people could make me whole, I don't know. I've yet to witness my feelings not to be betrayed by the ones I thought I loved. But it is too late now, too late to turn back and try again. And even if, it wouldn't be the first time I tried to start over. At one point people will always try to exert control over you, to puppeteer you to fuel their own agenda. I don't know, might be human kind's nature to do so even. I never felt welcome anywhere because of this. To be always in expectancy of betrayal is weary. And I know that this mind set is like a self fulfilling prophecy, but there is only a certain amount of times a man will allow himself to be fucked over. This path is lonely, but no one hurts me here."

And as he spoke, he realized how pathetic he sounded. Like a wounded animal afraid of being hurt again. Yet a true warrior would keep on fighting, wouldn't he? Or was he just romanticizing an old idea... he didn't know.

Definitions don't matter anymore, they're fluid nowadays. So there is nothing to hold on to. Maybe it's better this way, but it's also very confusing. So the easiest and most straight-forward choice was to keep away from definitions. Walking alone on a path chosen by oneself was probably the easiest way to do so.

"People are frail. You try to define yourself by a flowing river and wonder why your definition never solidifies. It can't, it never will. You need to change your source of reference."

He knew that already, he had explored that path as well.

"I tried to reference the divine and failed to uphold its virtues. By all measures it is a solid reference point, but also very riggid. And in this era riggidness doesn't survive contact with society. So who to please? The divine or the people? The answer is obvious, so I've chosen and I'm walking this path, broken, because I'm weak, yet I'm still walking. And that is all I can do for now. You're right, I tried defining myself by the measures set by people. I have never found a definition that way, as you say, a flowing river, ever changing. But the measures of people are easy and adaptable, as long as one is willing to sacrifice oneself and who one is. Maybe that's why many choose this path nonetheless. The divine is solid, but also at times difficult, especially for the weak like me. So rather than not choosing, I chose, and even if I'm broken, I'm walking and that needs to be enough."

It just needs to be, he thought. He couldn't see any other alternative.

"It isn't though, is it?"

...

"No, it isn't."