How do I begin? I pull every little bit of energy in, and then I purge it all. A fresh start. A new beginning. My feelings are somewhere. I feel bigger than my body, but so small.
Is the energy flowing out or in or is that just my narrow view of it all? I don't quite know how to speak All I know is that it's there. I want to spill it out, or breathe it in.
What will give me life again? What will provide for this fragile body and not hurt it at the same time? I don't even know if I have the right words.
I used to think I knew it all, no that's not right. Does anyone else feel this way? Lost or forgotten or alone? I mean in a way that feels like emptiness.
Despite my efforts, I feel misunderstood. I'm not made for this world, I'm made for another reason. How do I find that? Or maybe I'm not made for anything at all.
And then the sickness spreads, and the fog rolls in and I can't see or hear or think. Only: a feeling. Intense. Too much for this world.
I need the truth, what am I here to do? I know it must come from me, but I'm not ready. I'm not done growing, I guess. This darkness paralyzes me, and all I want to do is make art.
I want other people to feel what I feel and for a moment consider that there's more. I want to live good. To live right. But it's all a spectrum. Right and wrong are apart of the same continuum.
Opposite ends don't meet, unless the lines are folded. Curved. Suddenly circular. Will I ever know or will I ever feel right may be questions that exist without answer.
Beauty and sadness, are they too part of the same spectrum? Do they exist upon the same line? Forever bound in an eternal embrace.
But what is beyond eternity, and what is beyond us? Dark and light. Death and life. Distance and length.
There cannot be distance without length, therefore length without distance between two things does not exist either.
Prove this wrong then: If I am at the farthest point from myself, then I am still myself. There is nothing lost or forgotten anymore. We're all here. Me is more than just an I, me is we.
Do you get it now or must I continue? If there is a bottomless sea, but there is also a sky, then at some point they must meet.
Even if the line is straight, with two end points, there is a point in the middle where the sky and sea meet. That. That is me, which means we.
Now what happens if you rip the paper the line is drawn on? Is it that all the space around and between is the meeting place? The line was one. Now it is two. A tear, a rip, a death...
It does not destroy the line, it merely rearranges. The line still exists, but in two places instead of one.
Show me another way? What proof do you see that will explain things differently? You and I and we exist in different places. We have different voices and different experiences.
We give and take from our self. Breathe deep see. Sea high or sky low, it's a different way of thinking, but it's the same line.