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An old personal journal entry that just seems worth sharing.

At twenty four, I honestly thought I would have reached an optimum level of maturity and a certain confidence with life. But as I get older my certainty and confidence in living seems to waiver and slowly dim out.

I could blame it on a number of things but it all comes down to one thing, I am the mechanic of my own life. I control  a larger part of how things turn out o be. But so very often, I rush to pointing fingers and blaming institutions larger and seemingly way out of my control.

Suddenly I want to be a farmer. Till the land and enjoy my own produce. Take full responsibility for the outcome of my hard work where any battle that I might have would be between me and nature and the God I talk to.

I rise early to prepare for work in the city, rushing and competing with an endless number of individuals all out to get the same thing I want. A secured future, a meal for the day, a comfortable dwelling, a possible foundation for a family: a means for comfortable continuity.

I am disgusted.

I suddenly feel sorry for not only myself but for all those around me. I am overwhelmed by the pity for the ignorant masses..rushing, running, cheating, coniving, complaining souls around me. I am not overwhelmed this time, like so often in the past, by a need to instigate change, but rather, I want to just rise above it, escape and enjoy my youth until it fades away to nothingness.

I blame the systems that have given themselves authority to play God and meet in dark rooms to plot on how to rob us of what we are truly entitled to. The monsters created by capitalism and worldly forces set up to solve complexities of life. Monsters created because of the innate need for security, belonging and continuity.

 Mine and so many others’ freedom is masked by so many falsities and a false hope that if we give in as much as we can, we shall indeed get all our life’s desires.

I believe that everything will be OK eventually, I hold on to my optimism. I build within me a new hope.

But I falter, I wonder how many times I will have to shape my mind into conforming to what I so much do not understand and yet distaste. At this point , I resent my human conscience because it is
burden. I long to be naive and carry on gracefully unknowing of what surrounds me.

I look at nature and I am filled with envy.

The birds will continue to soar over the city irregardless of the state it is in. Destroyed by it’s human inhabitants, or by nature, the birds continue to soar, oblivious of the filth in the surroundings and moving on to happier healthier places to exist.

I will be a bird.

I will flee.

I will live on, in beauty, oblivion and plight.

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“I love the grace she carries despite the fact that as far as she knows, only her reflection is watching her fly.  I Love the way she is swimming through the air as her silhouette swims through the water below her.  Carry your grace proudly, no matter who is watching, no matter if it is only for yourself.

Kingfisher Racing Her Reflection (by TylerKnott)”

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