So if living is not about the definition but about the experience does that mean that we are all missing the point? To enjoy life and all it’s candor while accepting the ebbs and flows as they come. I imagine infinite sorrow and the feeling of heartbreak. The only true cure is no cure at all. That you can only move forward with the grief in your heart but a new song on your lips.
I stand on top of the cliff looking down at the water beating furiously on the rocks below. Reaching my hand into my pocket I feel the envelope cold in my hands. I want to take it out again but can’t. The words written on the envelope I sent in a red scrawl taunting me…
It took a long hard battle to get here and at times I never thought it was possible. My own negative thoughts and energy prevented me from becoming anything more. I am not sure what sparked inside of me. It began long before my brush with death. Well not too long because at 37 I was still lost and struggling to find my way.
Feeling like a million miles a second but also feels like its not moving at all. To never have no words spoken to have this incredible smile radiate from deep within. Those feelings couldn’t be a mirage could they?
In the absence of passion though life begins to lose it’s meaning. When you try to live without that key component you are like a shell. A shell that could shatter into a million pieces in any given minute. You are already in fear of taking any sort of movement in any diection. Often you think that maybe just by standing still and let life just move through you that it could possibly be enough.