I long for a new contract with myself

 This is a time of searching...for peace and self-care and self-love.

I cancelled the "best baby in the world" contract I received as a young boy.  None of us ask for these contracts but I assume others struggle to live up to them too. Falling short of the childhood requirements to receive the love we desire, I imagine we're all connected in universal suffering.

That's beautiful...so why endless war?  Why mass murder? Why politics of hate?

I don't feel connected to anyone now.  And while I've cancelled the old contract, my DNA tells me to live by its warrants.  

I continue to feel shame and fear for not pleasing others, especially after three decades of brutal mistreatment. This is the pain of the war-torn.  I believe I will never be loved, just as I have not been these last 30 years.  I believe I am my only hope for finding something I cherish that will not hurt me over and over again, every day.  Every night.  That won't rip me out of bed naked and imprison me forever.

That will not plot to cause pain and then be incapacitated by the confusion of bloodied corpses.  

Love from someone who is not ill and deformed as their primary characteristic.  Only morons and narcissists believe they are redeemed, and they live on indefensible fantasies that they aren't assholes to themselves and the rest of us.

I have my own asshole-in-chief for my life.  As a society, we have Trump to carry the burden and tell us that those who hate us are to blame. Self-enabling vipers, climbing on the limbs and heads and torsos of everyone they meet.  Sooner or later.  Generally immediately, without review.

As a species, this is, of course, the terminus of the evolutionary chain.  Self-destruction is written in our cannibalistic genes.  The omnivores' dilemma is partially when we chose to feed on ourselves.  It is the end of Greek mythology.  It is Revelation, that truly idiotic book at the end of the worst joint writing project ever.  Turning on our own species is the 2nd through 7th Circle.  

Raw flesh and burnt souls. Welcome to my marriage,

I have seen this up close, and I can't live that way any longer.  I can only hug myself, and hope to feel something kind inside me, left over from a precocious blonde boy.  Left over from me, and my parents, and their parents.  Those good, kind, smiling, smart, handsome parts.   

Find those, and cherish them, David, every day.  Loving those parts makes more sense than anything you have ever dreamed of.  Make that new contract with yourself, and feel the love.  I want that for you, bittersweet in reflection of your suffering.