Living Water

When you wake up each morning, and go to bed each night, it's your own eyelids you see the back of. You don't see the back of the person you worry most about, the one you love the most, or the lids of your harshest critic. You are with you, beginning and end.

Within those eyelids is an entire universe all your own: your own thoughts and your own spirit. There is a magnificent indweller behind those eyelids, and I wish each of us had the courage to preserve that denizen, to be a good caretaker by the choices we make, who we share our time with and how fiercely we feed and protect that beloved self.

But I have been weak. I've not always made the healthy choice, not been as fierce a protector of this person I wake up with everyday and go to sleep with every night. But dear God, I pray for that strength and discernment. To know when to hold em, and know when to fold em. So that when things don't go according to plan and people have the audacity to be imperfect, your soul is still in place. You are anchored because you are fed. You are not hungry for the things you don't need.

But when you have not fed and protected yourself properly, the world is a barren winter and every single solitary snowflake is called upon to quench an unrelenting drought inside. And this is the great paradox: you're equipped with living water and are never truly in need of a drink. I have the water for myself from myself, but I will not drink; I'd rather have another quench my thirst. This is fallacy.

I am spent from starving myself from what I need (and am in possession of) for the things I truly do not need (that daily, I seem to believe I do.) I exhort you to feed yourself. If you are thirsty, drink from your own well. There is more than enough there.

Now, this may seem like an over-decorated burst of cynicism or a narcissistic overture. I hope it is neither. I fully understand that life is no Disney film and people are imperfect. However, it is my own responsbility to cherish the only thing I have, the numinous me that I spend the most time with, and to surround myself with things just as healthy to my most precious possession: Me.


Maktub,

Z

She Forgot

She forgot.
What other explanation could there be? She simply forgot.
There was written evidence. There was infallible memory. There were tangible pieces to grasp. Yet, she forgot. No one ever thought it would happen, but it did. She slipped. And forgot.

How does one find themselves in such a predicament? Well, it takes quite a bit of falling into the rabbit hole. Quite a bit of falling. The silly part of it all is not realizing you've even stumbled across the damn rabbit, let alone the hole! But, you arise from some sort of slumber and wipe the debris from the body you once vaguely knew, and there you are. Location: unidentified. Origin: Gold. Destination: re-routed.

Then you remember that you forgot. Damn.