Whatever I believe in is what comes back to me every single time. I believe I’m eternal, no matter what happens I’ll still be that soul I remember feeling pulsating through me as a child, one way or another.
Every time I look around, I notice life goes by before my very eyes and I’m still here, nothing to do, nowhere to be, plain, undiluted being. The trips, the jobs, the people, the scenery, the moments vary, bright, colorful, delicious sweet and sour, they leave me mostly grateful, sometimes not so appreciative but always amazed in retrospect.
It’s been a while since I last acknowledged how good life has been to me, never failed to bring me what I expected. It’s about time I truly took full responsibility for it all, my unexamined thoughts, my unconscious self-loathing, my egotistical, masochistic or just lazy resigning to fear, habit and contrast.
When you write, you get the rare chance to talk to yourself, realize what’s going on inside, what keeps the outside going, day in and out. I really don’t know how to answer those questions until I sometimes do, an epiphany takes over my conscious mind and it all becomes so clear. Nothing seems to matter, until it does. But for all the unexpected reasons. Everything is bathed in a brand new realization light.