I, the We.

Forgetful of our roots.

A clear indication that we no longer care for the seed from which we sprang. We move flawlessly through a glass reality, then shriek when it shatters away into infinity. To be replaced by an ugly truth, where we are confronted with what we will ultimately lose; ourselves, if we don’t learn to more carefully pick and most certainly choose.

For what is an abstract lesson if not one that is the most difficult to grasp and even more so to fully comprehend. When you have but a single chance to succeed and a million variables that could lead to your untimely end. Then and then, we have the audacity to judge those who cannot even judge themselves. Scream for help, please my dear, do. Even if it won’t do us any good.

For it is not up to him, her, the miss nor the sir, to enlighten you on what you once were. Forget about that which you have missed and please do not insist any longer on a simple lesson in personal history, for if you do not learn once, twice or thrice then you shall repeat insanity back and forth aimlessly, with no true goal in sight.

Your dreams, those that were uploaded to your spirit when you landed within this biological machine are yours alone to manifest, yours alone to chalk into the board of eternity. I never volunteered to be a scapegoat, so why is it that I am blamed for the fallacies of those that lay low.

For we reap what we sow. If you don’t feed a child then how do you expect them to grow? I am not talking solely of the physical nourishment, what of the mind, do you craft and expand within it and of the eternal spirit, when it breaks through to you, do you even attempt to hear it?

Or, are you simply afraid?

Afraid to listen to YOURSELF. Afraid to accept an inch of help. Afraid to face the truth that has been staring you dead in the eye. Afraid to accept the fact that upon death you shall experience and acknowledge the ultimate lie.

That it was up to you, up to you alone indeed. To break free from being a cell in an unholy leviathan that exhales greed and inhales hope. To accept the fact that if you do not breathe then you will most certainly choke. I see now, but you don’t want to end up broken, or have you already broke?

Now I understand, now I simply see. That the pieces cascaded and shattered around my essence will not realign themselves nor will I have someone to assist in my repair, that alone is up to me, as it always has been.

In order to be free, no longer will I judge the truth within I, nor the truth within we. It is our inner core that calls for love you see, love of self, love of others in all their forms and love of fate, that which is written in the future, now as most certainly history. So I accept the terms in which I shall live out my days.

I refuse to be silent, I refuse to be stuck in a daze. For I seek a triumph and an end to my tribulation, I believe deep down we no longer seek an initiation. As none of us need to be born, indoctrinated and accepted into a state of appeasement. We are all that is required, both self acceptance and an internal appeasement.

Accept the truth and acknowledge that what we have done, is written in the past and will be forgotten before long. So continue to strive. Continue to struggle. Continue to love. Continue the endless riddle.

For life is but a game, yet it is most certainly what you make it. Make sure you live true to your self, don’t smother that passionate flame within a dusty blanket.

Thank you for reading, if you enjoyed this piece, please do share it with friends and family.

Sending you Love through Light,

Brandon.

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