The raindrops make hollow pitter patters in my faint existence. In a sea of many, I am none. I fade away as soon as I’m acknowledged, so consumed by my thoughts I can’t bare reality. The crisp air reminds me of the sting of silence. The silence of insignificance. I stand two feet away yet feel worlds apart. I am forgettable. And as I state it, my words will fall on deaf ears. Unnoticed by many, my words will echo as they begin to evaluate the essence of who they are. Deafen by their own creations, reality, fables, and fairytale stories they sell themselves just to get by. Why? Because they too are forgettable. They too question the grand scheme of things and is it at all worthy?
They use words to label themselves, clothes to project themselves, music to relate themselves, and love to betray themselves. But when the raindrops do fall, they realize their existence is minut. Their problems, irrelevant. This world, temporal. They even take pictures to display and delay themselves from the inevitable truth. That their story has a tinge of redundancy followed by a bittersweet end.
And as the wind blows, it stings. All things acquired will fade, and what are they, but a 5th of a sec on the watch of time. Because an individual will always be insignificant. A soul is valueless in duality and the end is an eerie beginning. And like the face of a clock, we are reminded that life is circular and in that is where our true significance lies.
Just like the plankton feeds the herring, who in turn feeds the dolphin, who in turn feeds the sharks, who dies, dropping to the depths of the ocean becoming food for the plankton; they fail to realize that we are connected. Not considering that we are all, oblivious that the clock was purposefully made round as a reminder: of all that was and all that is to come. They do not acknowledge the false unity that this tangible world deceives them into believing. They crave immortality not recognizing that replenishing this earth grants us that. Why? Because energy (soul) doesn’t die, it transfers.
I cannot bare this reality with insignificant beings not understanding that unity grants them their significance. That their death brings forth new life. They are brainwashed with egocentric nature and self-indulgent practices. They think little of cause and effect. They isolate themselves in worlds of their choosing never coming out to experience the beauty of unity. Ignorant to the fact that their individualism makes them forgettable. Isolation is wasted energy…The rays of the sun feel good on my trivial pores.
Their picked-fences keep them boxed in to keep the world out. Their clothes tell you the status of who they are so they don’t have converse with the universe. They share music as to not express their emotions aloud. They take pictures to obtain a moment of happiness in pursuit of forever, instead of innerstanding that forever is that moment. They are Christians, Bi, Black, Jewish, Trans, White, Middle Eastern, Queer, Canadian, Moslem because they have become comfortable in duality. They are comfortable with insignificance. To all of them, all these things; isolation, makes them noteworthy. But from a macro standpoint, they are disrupting the order of things. They dismiss unity as a foreign language, as the metaphysical world thirst for them to connect.
The smell of the salt in the breeze brings me bliss. Father time must laugh because we don’t have time left to get back to the union. Our duality has surpassed the union and that vortex is steadily closing. As they steadily try to be unforgettable. Mother nature can only stand so much imbalance, so much disconnection. Father time feels her heartache and haste time.
To not give back is true insignificance….
The raindrops make hollow pitter-patters in my faint existence. In a sea of many, I am none. I fade away as soon as I’m acknowledged. The crisp air reminds me of the sting of silence. The silence of insignificance. I stand two feet away yet feel worlds apart. I am proudly, forgettable.
