i might not know you now.... but i'm sure i will eventually.
my favorite kind of movies are the ones that dont have just one main character but instead, a whole cast that have an important and crucial part in the story.
the type of movie where one character has no idea about another and yet as the story develops the two characters's lives cross.
its important to me i guess. like how the director is able to piece things together like a puzzle. slowly but eventually giving me just the right amount of information to keep my interested but keep me in the dark. its frustrating but i still am intrigued. the way that i start off not knowing who the hell or what the crap is going on and the significance behind each person or how they may be all related. but they always are, something always brings them all together.
thats how i view life.
God plays director in this seemingly disconnected world. he decides to reveal things to me, but only when its appropriate and necessary.
i'll never know why you came into my life, or why i didnt notice your smile as you walked by or why i never said anything before or dreamt about those things that i'll never live up to.
i have no clue why these people are in my life at this very moment. and thats not the scariest part. aside from all of my uncertainties, i cant help to think about the amount of things i dont even have an idea about. my half thought concepts about life and how i should be living and in what shape my heart should be at the start of every morning.... it burns the edges of my soul, almost like its branding me with the feeling so that i'll never forget... i will never know everything and i'll never be in the drivers seat to my own life.
what good are memories?
in a class lecture about SELF we were asked about our memories. what purpose do they serve if they can be just as falty as a lie, as transparent as a white one and poisonous as the truth. where can i get validity? some certainty? how can i protect myself when i've been programmed to unconsciously make up shit? its almost like i'm set up to fail.
which makes things a little bitter to swallow. i mean... if i'm having trouble remembering the color of the shirt i wore last week or the grocery list i forgot to bring with me..... how amazing was that night i spent with you? in my heart i could have died and lived forever as broken pieces on your skin. your words could have been thick as smoke and sunk deep into my arms and neck but for all i know.... it didnt really happen the way i imagine it. is that the beauty of perspective? or the nightmare of my own eyes?
the type of movie where one character has no idea about another and yet as the story develops the two characters's lives cross.
its important to me i guess. like how the director is able to piece things together like a puzzle. slowly but eventually giving me just the right amount of information to keep my interested but keep me in the dark. its frustrating but i still am intrigued. the way that i start off not knowing who the hell or what the crap is going on and the significance behind each person or how they may be all related. but they always are, something always brings them all together.
thats how i view life.
God plays director in this seemingly disconnected world. he decides to reveal things to me, but only when its appropriate and necessary.
i'll never know why you came into my life, or why i didnt notice your smile as you walked by or why i never said anything before or dreamt about those things that i'll never live up to.
i have no clue why these people are in my life at this very moment. and thats not the scariest part. aside from all of my uncertainties, i cant help to think about the amount of things i dont even have an idea about. my half thought concepts about life and how i should be living and in what shape my heart should be at the start of every morning.... it burns the edges of my soul, almost like its branding me with the feeling so that i'll never forget... i will never know everything and i'll never be in the drivers seat to my own life.
what good are memories?
in a class lecture about SELF we were asked about our memories. what purpose do they serve if they can be just as falty as a lie, as transparent as a white one and poisonous as the truth. where can i get validity? some certainty? how can i protect myself when i've been programmed to unconsciously make up shit? its almost like i'm set up to fail.
which makes things a little bitter to swallow. i mean... if i'm having trouble remembering the color of the shirt i wore last week or the grocery list i forgot to bring with me..... how amazing was that night i spent with you? in my heart i could have died and lived forever as broken pieces on your skin. your words could have been thick as smoke and sunk deep into my arms and neck but for all i know.... it didnt really happen the way i imagine it. is that the beauty of perspective? or the nightmare of my own eyes?