How To Tell A Story

A Loss For The Right Words

 Feelings and instinct. Instinct being the best word I can come up for it. The impulse for instant gratification, the "need" to act on your animalistic nature regardless of the consequences, be that to you or anything else. I feel remorse, I don't indulge in the majority of said impulses, yet the times I seem to lose a bit control I willingly forfeit what I believe to be my true good nature and my feelings die a little each time. I think greatly of these missteps about every other minute, seemingly all of them or the ones that have happened in excess as the whole of what it was. I wonder if this defines me. To be so distraught over evil or as some say animalistic natures and habits. It's natural to have so many thoughts about a simple sentence. Do my thoughts and feelings define me or my actions? Is it that, they combine or one simply outweighs the other, even perhaps if done less? The dedication of pulling a trigger is nothing to that of say, studying or willingly and continuously going out of your comfort zone. If the things that should hype me or you up and to some extent do, don't actually make you try for change, consistency, and self righteousness, what ever will? I'm convinced we all have our own personalities, ways of thinking. The background may mold you into a more consistent shape, but I hardly believe it matters. The decisions you make can not be blamed on such things. I know if I had it better I would only be worse, so in some small way it does or could matter. I would have lost the excuse, but even with it I question everything about myself. I have an excuse to think I could be good, that the way I am was habits that can be untaught. Is that too a form of strength? We were not made to be a certain way and all of our characteristics define us as a whole. Maybe a whole species. As natural as it is to kill it is to think. But because we all were meant to think our own certain way, we all became unassuming monsters to each other. There's no way you or I could relate to each other in any way except how different our thoughts are to one another. You could easily make the mistake of being understood and that is by no means a necessarily bad thing. Our lust for wanting to be understood and to understand goes beyond mere survival, I think. It's wanting meaning and longevity. It's wanting to be satisfied, happy even. It's something that can not be described. It is human. Because we can never understand we are always human. Because we have such desires and the variety in which they come, we are alive in the most intricate of ways. We can never fully stand out, but we are all part of the whole. Humanity as a whole is scattered consciousness that each have lived and serve its own purpose entirely. The meaning is not so much as to what we should do, but rather what we are. We all have our own thoughts, feelings, desires, personalities, and actions. What words you think define you, even still you cut some of the synonyms for the said word. We are as complex as we are alive, in thought and in life. This here is a perfect example, incoherent rambling to some and to others a breath of life and a step to understanding themselves a tiny bit more.