I forgot the future, I lost my past in the moment

I forged a way through the barriers of my preconceptions. I allowed myself the freedom to live, but lost it in the realization of my existence.

Complication brings satisfaction, accompanied with unease. Grasping for what’s there and thus losing it all together. Pressure is an excuse, physical limitations are inconsequential. Trying to find the words to describe a feeling is fruitless. Everyone knows the answer but is unwilling to commit to the solution. Reveling in your weaknesses only brings comic relief. But straying from a familiar state, no matter how miserable, brings anxiety. How easy it is to despise others, those that lack the prized quality of insight, for which we feel superior, but there is also envy at the ease with which they live their lives.

We colour the world with a spectrum that has yet been proven to exist. And when we forget ourselves a true bliss emerges, a bliss that has been suffocated, waiting for the opportunity to emerge. Is it possible to find a balance? Do we need to lose one part of ourselves to gain another? To sacrifice that which we take pride in for what we ultimately crave. We know the choice we’ll ultimately make, we can’t help but make, it’s a part of us that will not dies, it’s a part of us we will not kill.

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