…We become used to how things run. How they affect who we are and what we do. Then that becomes our living…
No one ever told me to stop and look. As someone with a soft spot for photography, you get to discover that for yourself. Stepping away from the lens to take in the serene unfold. Not just looking, rather looking without, within, with…at the blue in the sky with Venus adorning…at the birds in the air we so often are told our worth surmounts…at the people around, surrounding you, wondering how fate carved you there at this place, time, state…at our bodies, vessels of who we really are – our physical armoury in a battle of the mind. Biological vessels still subject to the biological processes life courses. At the process of life and how everything plays out. And looking at a mirror, as into it, and seeing what all these adds up in creating the reality we are and exist in.
All these we see becomes the norm.
Norm in a sense. We become used to how things run. How they affect who we are and what we do. Then that becomes our living. Anything out of this ordinary living becomes a southward-arching extraordinary. So we dismiss it, content with our version of living. But that’s it. Living by the book always flipped a last page. And for what? Life can’t be a template…yet look around again and see the lie.
It is weird. Life is weird. It has a weird way of panning out, moreso. In one moment it’ll reside brimming with bliss, letting on only good vibes, and in another relentlessly try to beat you down. Finding a balance, I guess, is what they call maturity. Not really sure who they are. Society, I guess. The wiser half. A maturity that dictates being cool at the surface, waging a battle from within…at times winning, and most times having to draw a moral from life’s jab at humour.
It plays to our favour, though, when we need it. Not when we want to need it, in which case it takes its course. It doesn’t answer to anyone, screw who you are. Shout, cry, punch it out, it goes like a wind heading north but taking the south. It becomes the deer that runs across your path whose worth’s while enough to hurt yourself saving. And as treasurable as it is, bears the deepest hurt when lost. Not so much to those losing it than to those left behind asking why it couldn’t have been them. A question no one wants an answer to, really…I guess it’s the thought that counts…
It’ll give you sh*t, and you’ll take it. It will steal sh*t from you and you’ll give it up. Without so much as a tear. It’s a dime so priceless you’d give your life to save it. (What?) An existence more than just existing, they had to call it living. The wiser half again, I might guess. It’s a force that keeps us breathing and gave us Science to cure our curious minds of the mystery. Something inexplicable, you just have to be living it to believe it.
It goes on, though, opening up new possibilities and experiences with time – the only law life couldn’t hack. A story unfolding with every twist, into a melody that bears signature to all those who struck a chord. To be the greatest story you ever told.
Or…maybe not. It’s 1st April.