Tasty

The way life progresses forward is confusing, but interesting, like a never-ending labyrinth created by the quintessential arrangements of foliage and roots. Sometimes you want to walk in the little openings or cut your way through, only to realise that sometimes you’re just cutting the wrong way.

I stopped paying attention to that after a while.

Lost, wandering in dismay as I’ve been for many years, I’ve finally found myself in a state of neutrality – not governed by God, not governed by avatars, not governed by science, not governed by naïvety, but governed by ear candy. It’s the insensible waves of meditation that bring me to look at reality and being indifferent to it. I’ve seen quite enough; I’m ready to hear it all.

My emotions are deceived by sight; I see illusions and see the sadness on the faces of people. My ears, however, never deceive my emotions. They only deceive my understanding, but sometimes perceived ignorance is what brings understanding in the end. I would only be doomed if I were innocent to understand broken words. You watch broken hearts behind a flat screen.

I am no agent of the sacrilegious. I do not dismiss the existence of what your mind can see and manifest. I merely clear my own mind of adulterated fiction spoon-fed behind a veil and keep those I treasure. There are many things that blind me, but I merely await the bitterness they will bring.

But it is a fact of life that is bestowed upon us – we cannot simply deny our humanity. We are discomforted by knowing we are possibly the last agent of living spirits and there may not be another dimension awaiting us. Or perhaps there is. No level of human logic can honestly tell us the truth – we must wait for the truth to come to us one day. Until then, it is not our job to scorn those we do not believe are right. For all we know, you’re just as wrong as everyone else.

But mind not of my religion any further. There is nothing else to speak of.

My life has become devoted to the heart of an apothecary. Emulsions, suspensions, elixirs alike, my hands are not yet seasoned for the tasks of a chemist, but that will come after my mind devours the last hints of the scholar’s thirst. I was never discomforted for healing those whom are ailed, and l’ail it shall be if it is the remedy. I am only discomforted by the fight forward and the problems that litter the way. I can only try all I can, and I only have so many hands to give.

Education has never been so philosophical until now. It seems the school of thought I’ve entered has set a new pair of binoculars in front of me. Instead of grey, I see silver – instead of melancholy, I see ailment. It is not my duty assigned by any great creator or phantasmagorical watcher per se (but I will not abase this, if I see it one day), but my devotion to life.

I am happy with fate’s decision. Whether or not I decided this is not something I can answer in this scarce time. I must do with what I can. To love, to read; to meditate, to mediate.

I am not discomforted by my life. Perhaps I may be over time, but I will learn to appreciate, with celerity, without putting any puzzles out of piece. It is not my job to change you – it is only my job to heal.