There are no new souls Because energy can neither Be created or destroyed, The essence of life is recycled, Leaving us with only the Dreaming and the dead. Those in dawning success, And us in our dusky hells, Our very existences And every actions merely The slow illusory machinations of time, To create our fictional dramas, That would fuel the waking dreams and sleeping lives Us dead would give the dreaming.
So the moment I realise there are elements of my personality that act as charlatans.
They sabotage my relationships from beneath me, however – they do offer me the answers I used to crave. They don’t hide away from me and act out fairly brazenly, while I sit back. How do I cherish this day, the day of revelation. So I decided to grab this nonsense by the horns and take it aside.
With a stern lecture to myself, I have to do what isn’t easy. Graft and carve out myself from within a myriad of dreams and fantasy. Its not easy to accept the most humble truths about yourself, especially when you think you’ve ‘grown’ so much. Really I am just like everybody else, I have my shit to deal with on a daily basis. I am not the way people want me to be because there is no real definition of me.
This lack of identity has nothing to do with my lack of self love or self knowledge. It just sits there, like the thought fox in the back garden on a summer evening. Picking and poking at black bags, trying to forge something out of rubbish.
So with the hand taken back, in my pocket I am feeling around for a reminder. My dependency has manifest itself in you and there is no way I can cherish that day. So I embrace today, where everything and nothing makes sense. But its my sense! Not ours, or yours. But mine.