You Don't Own Anything
Give up the gaining idea so you can be human again.
Photo by Rowan Heuvel on Unsplash
It’s so interesting the webs we weave… The tales we spin, there’s no reprieve, from trying to prove our existence…
We churn, we turn, move through life as a piston… When is there time to be human? When is there time to do him, do her?
These dreams of capital are absurd, guaranteed to make the world miss its next turn, guaranteed to give us cycles… Ivory towers destined to crumble like the Eiffel, its all impermanent.
Funny how when we grow up we have to learn again…. or just die. Those are our only options after all.
Inside my eyes the light had started to slide, reside, darkened by the shadows of our time.
Then I realized, they were only darkened by the shadows of my mind, and there’s no reason to be afraid of the dark. Because if it wasn’t for the dark, who would have made them a spark, would Noah have made him an ark? I don’t believe in that shit, but you know learning ends when the good stories don’t start… What wisdom do I have to impart?
That’s what I’m questioning these days…. I’m choosing directions these days….
Wrong. The universe chooses and I just play along to the song. But it’s my song too, and you are a fine fool, if you think you own what the source allows to find you.