Seems the dreams that were littered with ruin, waring heroes and purple flames are now replaced with endless mazes.
Still submerged in what appears to be water or some substance.
Trying to make sense of the madness, a futile endeavour due to the answers being right in front of me, just out of focus an out of reach because for whatever reason I’m deemed not ready to understand or know them yet.
I do wonder though what it is I’m trying to escape, to run from.
Seems common in my life, I’m either running or cornered with no choice other than to fight through the endless hoards & onslaught of shit coming my way, yet I can’t grumble, not really as it’s mostly self inflicted.
Glutton for punishment as they say, yet deep down it feels deserved.
To see the vast expanse of what you are
Who you are
Why you are
It’s an interesting story because now you know and you can’t tell anyone what you know for if you do it’ll be gone.
I guess there is nothing more to do than sit, wait and see what happens.
Damn, just, damn.
There are things that make up tick
That make us plod along
Then there are the things that make us thrive
To know them
Might surprise and scare you
Conflict is what makes me thrive, I know not why
I just know I don’t feel more alive than in those moments where it’s all on the line
The elation of what makes us thrive
It’s addictive and thus we seek it
Be it good, bad or indifferent
We need it
Like a drug, it calls to us.
What are we to do?
Deny our needs and very nature to conform, to become one of the meek
Or do we just given in to it, to the desire
If you were to wake up tomorrow and find yourself in your living your last day on this earth, what would you see when you looked back at your life once lived?
A blaze of Glory
Filled with Honour
or littered with
Dreams that never came true?
This can happen. Time doesn’t care for your age of whether you feel you deserve more of it, when yours runs out it’s over.
Stop worrying about what could be and was never was.
Make choices, good or bad, it doesn’t matter which because at the time you make them they will all seem good, it’s only after we make them that we learn.
Live for the now, embrace the wow and when your final day comes look back, smile and say – The story of my life? I LIVED it, let me tel you how.
It has been a whole year since I started writing.
In that time there has been so much hurt and suffering, so much pain.
Over this time I have come to one indisputable conclusion: No matter how hard we try to avoid it, how far we run from it or how much we ignore it; change will always find us.
We as people don’t change much, we merely grown and learn. Through experience comes foresight and wisdom, the only difference between people who learn is the ability to use said knowledge.
Lets see if this time I can get it right.
We are blind to it all.
Can you see it?
It’s right there, it’s right there calling to us.
If you cant see it, what can you see? Darkness, Light?
I see it, and it calls to me. It calls to my instincts, my passions, my desires. It calls to my weakness…
It sees in my soul and the hollow space of that which once was. It knows that which has stayed hidden for decades… It knows.
I know its words. I can hear them as clear as the sounds of falling rain. Through my blind eyes, I can see.
Can you see it? Does it call to you too?
We are all just rebounding through time.
Standing in front on this harrowing mirror I gaze upon the reflection. I have no question of who I am or who I was. Uttering no such words as “I miss who I was, who I used to be.” because that was indeed who I was, it’s now who I am now.
So many try to reclaim the lives they once led, the person they once were. In reality though we can never be that person again because we’ve grown through experience and we’ve learnt through pain.
To not be ashamed of who you are is somewhat self indulgent, but, it doesn’t matter because the only person who needs to live with that version of you is you.
So long I’ve rebounded through time starting a so called ‘new life’ that was simply seeking a means to and end. I never really understood that sentence or it’s meaning until now.
If you sit and think about how your life has been it will be a sequence of patterns that repeat? Patterns that mimic a time your were happy, a time you thought would never end? Let me say this: you can’t recreate the past no matter how hard you try, it’s gone, that’s why it’s called the past. Don’t strive to relive what was, instead live what could be.
This is my promise to myself: this time around it will be different.