Having a little trouble getting to sleep. Been listening to some old records on Spotify. Not so much to remind of the old times, but I suppose to remind me of the times that never were. We’re told to forget the past, to blaze for ourselves new trails. But honestly every time I tried that, I only ended up being blocked by my past. I always felt like I was trying to live someone else’s life. That the dreams I was grabbing onto weren’t really my own. Maybe I’m just being some lazy old SOB, but I truly feel the moment cannot be met without first facing your past.
I may often dwell too much in a melancholy past. But it’s in those moments where I find perspective, not so much in a point of view, but in looking at things from all angles. In other words, why? Why can’t I just accept destiny and accept my fate? Why am I not driven? Why am I so unhappy? Lord knows I don’t have any answers, I wouldn’t even pretend too. But the fact remains, the past cannot so much be forgotten as it can be forgiven.
Etched across my mind is the image of God reaching out to man. I’m sure it’s painted across the ceiling of a church somewhere. For me it represents either the bonding of two souls or the healing of the past to the present. Both of these things I try and reconcile. Neither is an easy task; but they were tasks often hold my mind captive. I understand that some philosophies wish me face truth then let go. But in all honesty, I simply don’t wish to let go. For one is a vision I frankly hang my sanity on to, while the other offers me a clear path to who I really am. I guess all I’m really trying to say is, I’m having a little trouble getting to sleep.
I may often dwell too much in a melancholy past. But it’s in those moments where I find perspective, not so much in a point of view, but in looking at things from all angles. In other words, why? Why can’t I just accept destiny and accept my fate? Why am I not driven? Why am I so unhappy? Lord knows I don’t have any answers, I wouldn’t even pretend too. But the fact remains, the past cannot so much be forgotten as it can be forgiven.
Etched across my mind is the image of God reaching out to man. I’m sure it’s painted across the ceiling of a church somewhere. For me it represents either the bonding of two souls or the healing of the past to the present. Both of these things I try and reconcile. Neither is an easy task; but they were tasks often hold my mind captive. I understand that some philosophies wish me face truth then let go. But in all honesty, I simply don’t wish to let go. For one is a vision I frankly hang my sanity on to, while the other offers me a clear path to who I really am. I guess all I’m really trying to say is, I’m having a little trouble getting to sleep.
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