there's a point that i have come to wonder if it exists.
does it? or is this just imagined
created because we live to create things?
but at this point, wonderings begin
small at first, but there.
present.
am i the only one?
why is this life not being all that so many people have promised time and time again?
where is the wonder i used to have from it?
does no one feel this?
where is the simplicity that seemed to just flow?
does no one feel this?
when dreams were alive, attainable even
this earth was everything. a simple sonata in seemingly perfect rhythm
thoughts were simple
days unrushed
hearts without stain
and barely filled
what happened?
does no one feel this?
did something go wrong?
is that innocence lost?
stolen?
how can it be?
joy snatched away from some goblin
my mind scatters out
but where is my love for this earth?
in the way i have seen so many other people do?
have.
this planet.
these people.
they no longer seem to satisfy.
and my thoughts are no longer simple.
this doesn't fill me.
dare i let that slip from my mouth?
dare i say that?
this. doesn't. fill. me.
point.
it drains me.
i put the blame on them.
how dare others take this feeling away.
this perfect peace.
this perfect piece.
no.
they speak to me.
i am just different.
they say.
i am just different.
am i just different?
is it my contentment that has shifted?
this no longer satisfies.
this world and this,
brokenness
and i think,
that this point may exist.
a point in which this world no longer
accepts me,
creates me,
makes me,
loves me,
fills me.
this newfound point in which i no longer find my deep value in the these symphonies i once dreamed about.
because.
this point makes me realize.
this world was never meant to
accept me,
create me,
make me,
love me,
fill me.
oh but it was created for us, yes.
oh yes,
now maybe i have it.
maybe i like this point.
am i feeling again?
Peace comes.
I was created.
Peace comes.
yes... created.
now there is something different.
and for more than just this earth and its so-called joys and pleasures and hiddly dumb dumb..
they don't make the cut anymore.
am i just different?
but they tell me i finally have achieved and accomplished...
but i do not feel happier
i don't have peace. i entertain this fake peace. these fake songs.
living life with them like they're my best friends.
point.
our own accomplishments don't make us feel accomplished.
But yet we strive and we press on hoping that
more
and
better
will fill us, make us.
am i just different?
no.
i can't stand it.
finally
i can't.
i can't even stand.
so i'm on my knees.
i've tried so hard.
now this is a new view.
this is a new point.
im not by them anymore.
im not pretending.
realization comes in the softest way....
brokenness
will not, cannot, does not.
satisfy.
am i just different?
no. and on my knees and at this point.
i finally
turn to the
One
who
does.
