there’s so much there for the taking, a place where many run away from, is still solid ground.
their voices. stories, an evidence, the final result of a life lived until that point. “this is how a person (born from variables that can barely form a fraction of now, like the brief moments you just experienced) that has been through all the experiences they have gone through and my understanding from that, sounds”
when you finally decide to observe, you notice how much pure theater this entire experience is. the timing. your actions every second are now shrunk down to bare reactions.
a good method to get yourself to do stuff is really to || write it down, record it, “you” in that present moment, wanting for anything, comes from your inner self, probably the only person you trust, the only thing standing between you and who some might call god, they are your own words that will propel you to action.
denying science in a reality where when proven, is consistent across multiple humans in this reality you observe, where thoughts like these are able to reach before your eyes, only made possible by human research, seems pointless; irregardless of your personal views beyond what is considered physical outside your grey matter.
had my bath today and caught a scar on my left arm i hadn’t spotted in years; i guess it sort of blended in, i know it’s there but it’s been a while i actually thought about why, my earliest memories of this scar was tying it with what i think was a red or white handkerchief, i won’t lie, my memory is a bit fuzzy, but i am sure this is a lived experience, because i positioned both my arms on my back and the image came back to me, for a brief moment, or what felt like that actual moment which i am able to reference as this memory, i was on my knees sometime in secondary school, it was a tradition (for me at least) to get punished alongside others because an adult with mental issues cannot process the situation at hand beyond reverting back to an animal, anyways, for some reasons the principal had decided he will be serving a few senseless strokes of cane (a wooden stick used by many of the failures i considered teachers at that point in time), a way to deal with whatever he was going through at that moment, for some reason people like these are trusted with guiding kids to a bright future, a voice in me says because of this scar, you are experiencing this moment, i am not grateful that, i remembered trying to block a stroke on my lower back somehow, with my arms together, my left arm in this case, and that stroke made me bleed home, hence the handkerchief, hence the scar; it fills me with so much joy in this present moment rediscovering this scar, knowing he died in that same miserable job a handful of years later, it was a fair trade.
sometimes you only do what you recall you’re supposed to be doing, the other times it’s decided by the will of whatever forces that govern your being, and everything beyond it; living at a cliff right above the unknown unknowns
before your own eyes, and over time, you see them perceive you differently, all by their own thinking; but you still see it.
it is insane, everything else that happens in now; in between every deep breath; predicting people’s thoughts is not worth the effort; both of us being bound by gravity is the leveler, how many more levelers like these exist; all hidden behind now; humans thrive and have built a world on things that exist with reliable truth, truths that we are able to comprehend are inevitable; your memories before now, one breath ago, the only bit of context you hold and believe defines now.
if i was religious, i would die before accepting there is another creature closer to or able to speak to me on behalf of my creator; their words are worth the same as the barks of a dog and any meaning i am able to derive or comprehend, i must be able to acknowledge that only i speak to my beliefs.