Psychic Detachment

I watch. I watch without emotion as one man's mistake unfurls like a flower in full bloom. The weight of consequence falls heavily on his shoulders. But I will not step in to help. I feel oddly detached from the events that are unfolding. The threat of death should not be taken lightly. I should know. Yet in my mind, the green pastures and lavender blossoms still wave gently in the breeze. And when night falls, my mind traverses the dark corridors of my heart without fear. My visions of peace and power remain intact, and I am surprised to find that the emotions engulfing the people around me no longer touch me. Is it I who have grown cold, or has my curse of empathy finally been lifted? Somehow I don't think I really care. I wondered about his thoughts, and how he felt. And for a very brief moment, I cared. Then I closed my heart off, and turned back to dissecting the demons haunting my mind. I'm content for now, to sit and watch the world go by. These problems will work themselves out in time, like knots in a weaving. I cannot help hearts that are closed. The days have been chilly and bracing of late, with winds buffeting the trees and storms unleashing their wrath on the earth. It reminds me that there are still things worth living for. The scent of lightning before a storm strikes, the feel of cool winds against my mortal form, and the softening of the earth after the storm dies. And from that, I glean yet another lesson in life. Each death has a purpose, a meaning. Every beginning has an end. If this dies, then so be it. I will not fight fate to keep what is not rightfully mine. When I feel this way, I half fancy I can walk into a blazing building and sit in the middle, watching the forces of nature consume what man has built. Marriages...relationships...all that we have built will eventually succumb to the overwhelming strength of the world we live in. *shakes head* It's okay. Not many will understand what I feel. Do I feel anymore? Do I care? The answers to that hold no value for me, nor do they interest me in the least. They're just questions that hover in my mind like unwanted flies. I have to go now, to collect my piano books. Perhaps I'll remain there an hour or two, running my fingers over the ivories and wonder quietly where we went wrong. Where I went wrong. My emotions have been flushed down the great cosmic drain. Blessing or curse, I have yet to decide. I will walk among humanity today, but their emotions will no longer affect me. Today, I care only for my piano and the kittens that the cat has deposited on my doorstep yet again. Annually, she gives birth in my garden. I've cradled each tiny furball, whispering soft words of comfort, and I fancy the mother cat and I have come to an understanding. While she hunts in the afternoons, I sit with her kittens and watch them snuffle quietly in their sleep. Occasionally, she will watch me carefully with eyes that hold a lifetime of feline wisdom in their amber orbs. Cats are creatures of trust, but to get that, you have to earn it. Humans need to learn caution. *bitter*