Saturation

Picture, if you will, a long, wide - bigger than you can handle - piece of plastic. Like vinyl. Waterproof. Nothing can penetrate it, really. Nothing soft or supple, anyway.

Above this vinyl, is a fabric. I don't know what kind of fabric. It is absorbent, like a sponge. It takes and takes and takes. It becomes saturated by everything that touches it. Love, hate, ignorance, bigotry, innocence, rage....still the vinyl does not give. It holds the weight.

But the fabric does absorb love and everything else. Mostly love because it is what it wants most. Love. Tenderness. Like the touch of a misty raindrop.

It absorbs love all the way down until it meets the vinyl. And then it stops.

Beneath the vinyl, there is a vast space, a darkness, an uknown.

Here, in this unknown, are fears, nightmares, thoughts, memories, nightmares. Thoughts...

It occurs to me that we are all capable of these vile, vicious, violent, despicable thoughts. But most of us don't think them. We see them on television or hear of them on the news. But we don't see them ourselves.

But when we do, these thoughts cannot be un-thought. We are brought to this place in our psyche where we realize our inhumane capabilities. We shake our heads radically. We numb it. We shake and rock and dream of fantastical places yet....

We know we have thought the thought. The evil, wicked thought and thus, we know, what we are capable of doing. We know what we can be pushed to. We know our depths.

Many may disagree but I am going to say: I cannot be loved.

I have the vinyl.

It keeps me safe.

I let people saturate me to that end....to the end...where nothing more can penetrate and perhaps if there is a pinprick, it is quickly sealed by fear because I know, based on my saturation, there is no way they can love me.

I cannot love me.

Nobody can love me.