you rub your face and bite your lip and remind yourself of the ways things are and remind yourself that this is how they should be. dancing on that desert sand between what is real and what isn't, the motives that lie beneath every word hold the true daggers. not the words themselves, the words themselves are enslaved by the lips of envy.
if we were each to say everything in truth the world would be a healthier one.
today i was blessed with being able to talk to a very good old friend, he told me that he is learning that everyone is crazy and that it takes all types of people to run the world. I thought that first part was beautiful, ive been holding it up to my minds eye since then; every one is crazy. everyone is.
it is also crazy that we expect to be able to hold the sweet present in our calloused hands and expect it to grow and flourish whilst we reminisce to it of the past's glory. Oh dear present, hi remember how things used to be, remember that beauty, oh you don't you weren't there anyways it was really lovely , present, the past was really lovely. the present doesnt speak so as not to offend but deep in it's inner soul it knows that it is capable of being just as lovely. more so. more beautiful and more worthy than anything about the past. the present hungers for the opportunity. let be me, it whispers. it won't force itself unto us. none the less, if there may be any understanding or ambition within us i see it as our duty to satisfy that which the present hungers for. take this day by it's steady hand and not enslave it or allow it to enslave us but walk with it show it what we know and let it do the same. And how could we begin to do that if we won't stop craning our necks, trying to catch the last glimpse of yesterday
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