Okay the word for that would be??
Life has a way of handing you fruit the exact moment you
think you need it. Or maybe life hands you the means to
grow it and then expects you to be able to read enough to
not kill the plants before you can taste the product. On
the other hand maybe thepoint isn't if you can read enough
but if you can read at all. When do you know if the
knowledge you have is enough or even the correct lesson.
Is is right to question the very essence of the discovery?
Does the pit of the fruit have to leave a stain on your
soul before you take off your shirt? Does every juice
leave you sticky and hot or is does sometimes it give you
a sence of gratitude or even envy. Do you wash it off with
a sponge and hot water? Or do you leave it on you to
become like a sweat from the brow of a famous person. And
who is to say if that stench isn't the odor of success.
Does sucess have a smell? Is that what animals read on
Haunting thoughts escape my mind like the wind through a
latch on a worn out gate that surrounds a tomb. Did death
itself lead to the corruption inside this realm or did it
only find a resting place beside something already meant
to be. Like two parts to a broken locket. You can never
put the two peices back into one but neither should
either half be without the other.
Finding time for life is a necessary part of our world but
sometimes when you do, you find yourself retreating into
yourself as what the wish is becomes the evil that draws
you into a web.