I can cut this sadness with a knife. Would you like a piece? I thought not. I can't stop this train. Everyone on this train is not growing strong but instead, more fragile and crystallized in their flaws. All you can do is observe, if you're aware of what you're looking at.
Train's picking up speed. They don't tell you how it creeps up on you while you're making sure no hair strand is out of place. While your thoughts are roaming and resting upon something offensive a stranger said. Or as you're picking out lingerie at a downtown boutique.
No one tells you how words can change your whole world in an instant. How they can give or take away hope. No one tells you how you're here now but maybe not in the next.
In the next life? What does it matter? Oh, those glory days. Remember them? When your face turned pepper red because some crush said something nice to you. And all you wanted was to rush time ahead so you could get to do all those things you couldn't when you were young. You thought freedom was something you could buy.
And then you got your freedom and it wasn't what you had imagined it would be, would look like, feel like. It was a steady train going nowhere. It was only ever a steady train until it wasn't.
It wakes you up from your dreams. Any control you thought you had is now an illusion, something life forced upon you in order to surrender to it. Do you understand? The more resistance you display, the more friction you'll have to endure.
I miss those days when dreaming was right and good. I don't miss those days when I realized that dreaming was only for the innocent.
Here we are, wondering how we got here. Except it's so pointless to wonder. You can't turn back time. And while the future isn't guaranteed, this moment is all we really have. May these moments be blessed with the kind of hope and faith that move mountains, not merely to exist, but to live, to simply...live. And to live simply with grace.
