Inside your echo...

Sometimes it's not what you do differently it's what you do consistently. In recent weeks I approached solving my life's problems from many different angles. I used to try to make everything perfect, wanting everything in its place, life proper and justified. That was my desire. It did not happen though, yet that desire did not die. Ironically, as I fell into deeper adversity, it grew. And in some ways suffering ceases to be suffering at the moment it finds a meaning, such as the meaning of a sacrifice. I felt the meaning for my self imposed suffering was the honorable character I would later possess; it had to be.

Don't have it all, but I sure have it made...

Come on and change my mind...

Maybe. Who knows. It still might happen, right? But I'll tell you something: I think he's a magician. The way he spins reality around himself, and transforms it into something beautiful. He is strong because he feels pain. He feels the difference between what the world is and what he would make of it. Or what did you think that stuff in your chest was? He is strong because he hurts more than others. His wound is his strength.

Most people carry that pain around inside them their whole lives, until they kill the pain by other means, or until it kills them. But maybe I can find another way. A way to use the pain. To burn it as fuel, for light and warmth. To allow my imagination to open doors that don't actually exist. To phantom an existence based on good, and fair and justice. To surround myself with people that fan my flames, not dim them. To learn how to break the world that so adamantly tries to break me.