I'll leave this one to you

As we have all inevitably discovered, I am a lover of writing. It gives me something. (Something to do.)

But really. I love writing. I do it all the time, putting words together from just about everything. And I have realised, that, many a time this writing comes from my thinking. — Whether it be on a completely abstract concept or the events of the day, I have this constant "introspection-type-thing" going on in my mind, and I suppose, the writing is my way of letting it all spill out.

And today, I thought I'd spill some of that here. Hopefully, you'll take some interest in what I've got.

So a short while ago, I finished (re)-reading a book I have. The last time I read it was a few years ago. Anyhow, the protagonist of the story, her character goes through this change in herself throughout the book, an she's very aware of it. The changes are positive, although they seem obscure, or rather, difficult to comprehend when they come. In the end they make sense. In the end, it all makes sense.

Me being myself, I thought about the aforementioned. We always hear the expression, "People change". Somewhat dismissive, it's usually a way of putting the blame on others and doing the only thing you know — moving on. But what if the "people" referred to there is you? What happens when you are that person? — Ponder on that a while.

I for one, have been thinking over this a while and I've formed some kind of hypothesis. Although it's really not a hypothesis. More of an observation…that could very well be flawed. Not logical or scientific at all really — it's not meant to be proved. Most of my observations, you will find, aren't meant to be.

Their existence is a different kind of comprehension. A comprehension far from proof.

And here come the obscure half-metaphors again. Better brace yourselves.

So coming back to the topic at hand. "People change". Of course they do. You're a person too. And maybe you've experienced a change in yourself. I dare you to think about how it felt. I dare you to think about how it feels. I know that phrase, overused, "People change" may seem negative. But that's just perception.

A lesson I learned over the past year of my life is that change can be complicated. Sometimes, good changes don't feel good. At least not until you've lived a little longer and seen what that change brings to you. Most of the time (as per my perhaps-flawed observations), change doesn't happen because you wanted it to. I think it comes as a surprise. It can happen over a short period, or an extended period of life. Oftentimes, change is a feeling. Maybe so inward that it isn't noticed by the world around you. But felt, undoubtedly, by the difference in the way you notice the world.

Change, for me, has been painted as an "uphill battle" —
Some force pushing me to reach that top, I'd break into a heavy sweat, drenched. Soaked to the core, my clothes fall apart, holes in them. The path is rocky, sores all over my feet. Cuts bleed. My muscles ache. But I've got to keep walking.
The weather near the top, oh it's bad. It's suddenly terribly cold. My now very meager clothing doesn't suffice. So the warmth of walking will have to do. Actually, running would be a better option. If I run, I can't feel the cold. So I do. I run uphill, even if that will eventually only make the muscle-ache worse.
This goes on for longer than I know. But somewhere — it ends. Momentarily, at least. This pause of some sorts is uncertain but definitely good.
Then WHOOSH. I'm being led back down. And it's easier this time. I think about the climb and how much it hurt. How exhausted I felt. But now as I go back down, I feel extraordinarily…alive. I climbed. To the top. Now, as I come down, the remembrance of the fact somehow proves I'm alive. I appreciate that climb — because I think I understand it a little better now that it's been lived.

TOTAL SPILL.