The idea of note-taking and whisps of some fluttery endorphin inducing charm is not a quest. It is a journey. I began at age 10 writing nonsense over and over again in scribbles and single words that fascinated me.
There’s a movie called “Donny Darko” I saw years back that left me with a real sense of what we call the existential world. What is real to us? Words, emotions and human organs I never thought would fit so elegantly together. Palpable fictions we play in our minds we exert upon the world so we may understand it.
Yet the questions being asked about where we stand intellectually compared to someone else, now that is quite the endeavor. What a person calls true identity is being able to learn how to make sense of what reality means to them. Forever touched by a mind is this world that it never surprises, the capacity we have for beauty.
How do we reach others? We feel the pain, we feel the revelry. We feel the joy of an abundant vacation when we talk to some people. We travel into different dimensions everytime we make connections.
Yet the dark calls to us. Yet the night that pulls down curtains of shade, they keep the outside world outside. That a haven be supplied to you my friends, revel. For the sound of a heart is fierce and beats strong a fire we use to bring the world alive.
Silent are the sounds that matter to most of us. Releasing it into the world has graced my countenance and abundance of humility that I, yes silent…has made a world unto myself. Find it, for it awaits…