Yet again I am inspired. This time the path would be filled with small steps. And it matters little whether I reached as long as I journeyed.
"I belong to the forgotten. "
Was that the furthest mile I can cover.
"Well there is always a first time on stage."
I still feel the pulsations in my hands, along with the spine chilling wave that burns me. Pulsations not from belonging but from undermining. And I asked…when? Why? Can I look away from that which I long for, but yet I clearly fall short of? Is this to be for the rest of my time here? Am I chasing after a shadow or the wind? I do not understand more than I did back then. But acceptance does not pair well with hope. They are not meant to be one.
There are those who are set apart…and those who made up the masses..its that simple…unfortunately for most as the word “masses” indicates…they belong to the latter. ..set apart… from those who are set apart. It is funny and perhaps the only resolution is to laugh at the differential treatment.
Must one be a swordsman to wield a sword?
Contentment: Playing within yourself for yourself.
The within must be continuously expanded nonetheless.
In time, it will become a deeply rooted tree.