Despite Whatever Poem by Julia Luber

I am practicing my system. Just like I used to practice
a musical instrument. And I fear I put that down because
it was too beautiful for what I knew the world and life to be
like. I was afraid it was too delicate and high, melodious
and pure for what I knew about what people were like.
People seemed rude, mean, insensitive and on a sabotagistic
agenda. Enough of that…..it is the least attractive dimension
to my personality: what I know about some people. But as for
practice and dedication-I am still a dedicated person prone to
having to at least contrive some meaning here and there. I am
prone. I am susceptible. I probably would be more like the people
I most hate if I did not know the reasons as to why I so hate them.
I would probably be the first to be good friends with somebody who
is a truly terrible person who just happened to be super nice and
fabulous and wonderful to me. I am prone. I am susceptible. And
because I know that, I have practically stripped myself of every
pleasant indulgent hypnosis that exists upon this planet. Did I do
so as revenge against something like rape? Something like torture?
It is not clear. I obviously miss something that I once had that I knew
was good. I obviously was hypnotized by some pleasure at some point
that convinced me that life was worth living despite…..despite that it
would become a despite. At any rate, I am filled with diligence and
attention to my practice, and this is the easiest thing to do of all with
that nature and force of intelligence that exists despite, despite whatever.