11/26/2024
Sitting in the same room as I did as a young adult
Letting tears pool in my ears
Boxing with intrusive thoughts of realities and delusional survival
Mixed emotions on “friends” who only keep me close to find out origin points of hearsay
Making myself over enough to not get recognized as old yet not wanting to attract so much attention to what’s underneath this shedded skin it becomes consuming and I forget to survive
Maybes are being cashed in
Never’s are being drowned and given a Vikings send off
Loving yourself comes first right
Not so much depending on the life
If you never knew love you wouldn’t exist. But existing was by design not by choice.
Choices have been the bridges that burn so brightly they become the beacon for good and bad. Neither are true.
Good sits on top of bad the way oceans sit on top of sand grains tossed around never really making sediment.
Bad buries good just deep enough to call on it in times of distress.
This passage of life requires a requirnent.
Just one.
Whether to be loved or not to be loved has never been the actual question.
The question has always been both.
To be the Sand and the water.
Appreciate the rain and the burn of a bright being.
Be.
That is the choice. That there is no choice at all. That all of it is in fact the choice made.
Being the beibg you’ve chosen to keep choosing to be.
