#thoughtsithinksometimes

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I am, mostly, made up of seemingly infinite wandering strands.

Stretching in all directions, on a mission to weave themselves into the sun without hands.

I am a sunset. The output of all those brilliant strings, those glimmering things.

Spreading out beyond themselves, as far as the eye can see, hoping to catch reasoning.

A web of purpose sewn by the deepest roots of my core. 

Such a gentle and deliberate force to push my relentless curiosity to always question more.

Sometimes thoughts can feel like sabotage. The brain wreaking havoc on itself.

A necessity for mastering the art of suffrage I suppose.

Because beyond suffrage lies a more divine recollection of what really has substance, significance, and serendipity. Anything with the spirit of the essence of life.

Often just soaking up all your suffering can rehydrate the soul and replenish humility.

The hardships we endure are pivotal testaments to what it means to appreciate all your working limbs and the major organs that function without effort so that you can get by another day.

Be on your way amongst the circumstance. Disregard any boxes marked as victory as authentic victory can’t be contained by four walls. Those boxes are as empty as all your material possessions.

Not one bit of meaning you can roll around in your physical hands can be restrained by misconstrued boxes. Tis only deception, forever repeating. 

The way tombstones litter a cemetery, boxes wrapped up that look too good to be true are cautionary markings that perhaps only nothingness is on the other side. That even existence itself is fleeting.

A reminder that our entire universe itself is not infinite.

And to be reminded that maybe all there is to me may be just an arm and a leg. Just an open hand, a mouth, and a mind that can beg.