Thinking out loud

I'm sensitive. I feel everything, I feel everybody. That's my only critic, my only flaws and weakness because every time I pray to the universe admiring the trees and the way the leaves green.

The more I live, the more I realize how much more I'll need to learn, need to grow and experience a life am never in control because my insecurities of not being loved by a beloved becomes my addiction. The reason I tend to roll up a chunk of sativa and pledge aligence to the smoke I watch transform into nothingness.

Before I grow old and become the grandpa with too much to say and observe about a failed community and nation of dogs eat dogs, I'll have to pause for a minute and trade places with a child then a youth whose curiosity paints a purple heart soaked in its fears and mistakes amongst the same fact that it never matters what I've become but how pure my soul swims.

They might judge your life in an open tab of social media and some tricks you don't know. They may even feed on your anxiety and sorrows in order to feel hopeful and worthy of being called 'Better' but who cares about being saint when the deep speeches of the villain inside of us keeps saying our good deeds only prove our daily needs to be acknowledged by others.

I'm trying to keep my balance. Still trying to hold on to the uncertainties of my hopelessness and believes that I turn into an article of hope and faith which I pen down with a little glimpse of courage that something somehow might make a difference in my world then the universe at large because every time I wake to find myself in the same shoes, I only try to reach out to the other side where my dreams and emotions stays stable in content with the realization of my hopes and favors.

I walk around like everything is in control although with the thoughts that fate will come when I can't say no. I go my separate way from friends and family hoping to understand why love changes like seasons same way I can't please everyone. I confronted my past last night in my sleep then had conversations with my future during a short dream until it downed on me immediately I woke that I've been graced with the present that the past and future barely matters.

I may not know which way to go through these path of living and learning in the streets of pains and lessons around the stomach of injustice, lies and deception until we learn to love ourselves, improve ourselves absorbing every pains and sorrows which tentatively breeds us into something comparable to the sculpture of of the heavenly sculptor.

These words may sound boring with no direction or specific point but in somewhere between the first and last paragraph, a part of me has been elevated, inspired and thrusted deep into my own thoughts exactly through the window of my own soul as I say these last words, Living is the only teacher about life.

Everything here is unedited and raw from my thoughts and thanks for passing by.