Ouroboros

The ouroboros is one of those symbols of some concept which is relevant to humankind in different times, and countries. India, Mexico, Greece, Egypt all have a version of the serpent eating it's tail.
The concept is the hungry nature of life- that creative cycle we can not escape.

Three or four days have gone down the drain under a cloud of despair. That familiar feeling, I've known since childhood. It's never so acute as to be able to name it, other than despair.
There is no I feel sad "because", or I would feel better "if"- when this creeps in, it creeps back out on it's own watch. Generally, there is some reinvention happening in the deepest currents of my consciousness, and I am aware of it only at the tail end of the ordeal, when there is a break in the clouds- a very definite "ah-ha" moment happens.
Whether it's an insignificant whiff of honeysuckle and roses caught heavy on the breeze, or a clear idea, concept, answer! The break in the clouds comes, with or with out trigger, and if a person's breathing could be emotionalized, then that would be the closest thing I can compare it to:
i can breathe again.
The despair comes in dressed in shadow, holds my head under the surface of the River, till I think I'll never make it back out, then is gone so fast as to make me think it was all in my damn head.

I'm trying to listen to my gut.
I think it's telling me to figure out how important it is that I meander and wander, alone- not lonely.
There is another leg of the individuation process underway, and I know better than to whine about the unpleasant feelings it tends to stir.

The Ouroboros and it's hunger for it's own existence, it's cyclic nature- just makes so much sense out of many angles of this life.
With every day lived, another goes toward the grave.
The nourishment of our bodies paves the way to the death of our souls.
Our nature is to dwell on the parts of our selves which we feel should be changed, while the parts which are changed all the time tend to go unnoticed.

My romantic relationships, and friendships, have had a bit of Ouroboros about them.
Usually the things I want so badly in the beginning of a relationship, like provocative conversation, intimate awareness, touch, laughter, support- falter in and out of the relationship like the sub-particles which make up matter flash in and out of existence, and this has not bothered me so much as it does now.
I have compromised the quality of the relationship, because I have been too grateful to have the relationship.
I need to understand the importance of calling things by their real names.
I need to start figuring out how to get to know people slowly, let time build the relationships of my life, instead of my dumb young ass.
The relationship is there, but to let it go on living in the toxicity of the unquenchable hunger for more, is to let the fucking thing just rot. There is nothing wrong with knowing when the relationship isn't what we'd hoped, our thought, knowing when to walk away, let go, keep on.
Life is too short, to be touched without emotion being expressed, to be conversed with but not heard, to laugh without smiling.