Point of View

We see everything from our own point of view. There are multiple perspectives. Sometimes I see them all, but at other times I am blind. Sometimes I see nothing. There is a cloud of all the things that have happened in my lifetime. Too many stimulants. Too much emotional interference. We are all just a blinding glare of our insecurities.

I hate her because I am jealous of her. I make you cry because I am crying from the hurt of brushing up against you. We cause each other damage. And also we provide comfort to each other. This is the nature of things I suppose but I wish I could live without the mono-vision of my own perspective.

Then I am everyone suddenly and I am her and you and them and I am crushed by the guilt of my own selfishness, this terrible schizophrenic existence making me heaven and hell all at once.