Clockworks And Cold Steel

Yesterday was one of those days where I almost wished that I didn't have people in my life that I cared deeply about and loved. Because there were so many individual situations where there was hurt or physical risk.

Sometimes the hurt was in itself a physical pain - but generally it was emotional distress. As for the bodily risk - well, that's another story altogether. But when those we most feel things for are not happy in body or mind, it can be much, much simpler to become something of an automaton - to close off, to turn into metal. 

To make our hearts into gears and cogs, not somewhere we store our soul.

Simpler for ourselves, that is. But what happens then to the people who have come to rely on us for support in whatever shape or form we are able to give it?

Are they supposed to just shrug and say 'Oh well, better just pick myself up and forget about them, then'? Simply forget that for a long time, X had our back?

If you have the cold comfort of a new metal skin, with every part clicking away in precision time - and precision blandness - then what are those you love left with, but a smooth, featureless surface personality and a metallic tang to your traits?

Be grateful that love hurts. That caring for others is not easy. Because it is what separates us from the machines. Don't let your heart and mind retreat to the easier world of mechanical actions.

They may make you feel no pain - but you won't feel much of anything else either.

And I for one would not be grateful to lose my sense of anticipation, or excitement, or enthusiasm.

Or love.

Even if sometimes - just sometimes - I would like to forget to wind my own key.