Rusty Dream



Slowly Yet Briefly It Passes


Sometimes our reliance on sight can be suffocating: close your eyes for half an hour, an hour and you'll find a new world open up around you. After all, things are not always as they appear...

So fades another week and repetition. Life seems so pathetic and small–the world is so awash in rusty trivialities that one is threatened with drowning.

So fades another week and repetition and the gates of dreams remains closed. To open one's eyes and pursue the world, to close one's eyes and pursue within; the actions go hand in hand like lightning and thunder, and chart the only path this small actor can find for now. For what is this trivial pain without trivial reason to persist by? Harshness is only as senseless as we are: dream deeper and see farther! The question life wreaks is: "when you cannot see, cannot dream–then what do you do?" As for the answer: surely not all things come from the thunder, but some from the lightning too. Life, as some have noted in the course of history, is a difficult affair.

Steer me now to the shore of the pathetic! "Pride does not befit the needy" and yet somehow one still misses it.


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