I’ve made my fair share of promises, so has everyone. Meaningul or not, often promises are broken. This is the nature of promises. So much so, that they actually rarely ever mean anything grand at all. Of course there are exceptions, some promises have a lot of weight, a lot resting and counting on them. And we all know there are people we can count on, people who’s promises won’t go unheard and neglected.
What bothers me the most is the promises I have made to myself, not those I’ve made to others. The things I have told myself with all the intention of actually doing, following through on. I cannot even count them. They are so numerous, so wide-ranging that I can’t even begin to tackle what I have and haven’t said to myself – what needed saying and what didn’t. The thing is, most have them have gone neglected, forgotten, and not cared for.
This makes me sad.
It is that problem that never gets rectified. The one where we tell ourselves we will do it tomorrow. But when tomorrow is reached, we say the next day, and the day after, and the day after… so forth. And throughout this, nothing happens. We remain the same as we always have, change… it is an ideal that we rarely ever reach. And yet, we build promises on top of the unkept promises. A pile that grows and grows. While we grow weary too at our own failings, at the things we haven’t done, as we envisage the things we want and need to do.
It is a cycle that is seemingly impossible to break.
The promises we make to ourselves are always the most important. We should heed them, listen to them no matter what. They come from inside. A place where an unknowable demon resides. But just sometimes that demon knows what he is talking about, even if we do not. These promises should be listened to, because the chance is they do mean something.
They mean even more if they are acted upon.