When the walls are caving in, it’s as if it were to be the end of our worlds. But simply it’s just one speck of dust turning into nothing but another hole of abyss or as if nothingness. So many specks and yet so little time for each to state their purpose or to even find it. I wonder too often of people, why they do the things that make life so hard for others. The question raising yet another, until it seeps into the outer most space of infinate questions that lack but of the same answer of first origination. The warm intriguing sense of love sends my head in a whirl, lacking the sensation. The crave is not only but of my consumption but of all. The fantasy of a perfect world consumes each mind, but how can we be so sure of perfect? When all definitions of our souls longing for incorruption to stop are different, yet it leads to a fairy tale of only our happy endings. Selfish beings is what we are, lacking care of others. Yet gaining care for our own matter, of what can please our souls. Originally we were created of two, not of one. We were of a partnership, not of a dictatorship. I so long for the day of selflessness to seep into the valleys, and into the cracks of our hearts so tattered from conformation of the wrongly controlled planet. Show love, it’s the medicine of all medicines, it’s the warmth of all worthiness, it’s the cure of all sickness.
I’ve always wondered what I wanted to be years from now, of course something that made a lot of money because my life has always put me in a spot where money was everything. In my consciousness , it was something that you couldn’t survive without. Slowly as I’ve become older, I’ve come to realized that life is more than the abyss of world filled things that rot away, that I could and can be happy without a room full of rot, that I can love and be loved more than I had convinced myself I could. I wanted something that makes me happy, not a quick fix or something superficial, not a person, but something that I can think and look forward to, somthing to smile about. I’ve thought of myself as a simple soul, a soul who isn’t that important, not to myself not to others. That I had to establish things for others to be noticed in this darkness, as if holding a light in a empty room. I never got the feeling I so craved or even the love that I needed, just the same emotions seeped through my mind. As though I wasn’t enough, no meaning. Importance is what we all crave, a need that gives us a sense of comfort and self-reassurance. I never understood it but I constantly searched for it. Now I know that I don’t need it, the Lord has given me a hope and a strength in my being of a soul and in my heart that I now can’t live without. It’s so ubsurd to think that I have lived so long without it, because it is unreal to me to think about living without this new peace which I ubtain. I now know I can love who I am, I am loved.