Analog existence

What do you see in the void?
What do you perceive when fear clouds your world and worries clutter your mind?
If you’re in denial about drifting off to sleep, how would you know that you could wake up when you’re having a nightmare?
How could you ever trust that a pleasant dream isn’t just the beginning of a nightmare?

×××

I hope I transcend this
I hope my life is meant to be a little more than a string of stop signs and false alarms
I’m not a freeloader
I didn’t ask for symphonies or sympathies
I house my dreams in my heart
I’m a freelance dreamer
My imagination guides my faith
My hope knows no bounds
I often wonder if I’m deluding myself with the limitless optimism
And then I realize that I am, but all of life is a delusion until the moment when truth unveils itself
Since I can’t have certainty, I’ll pick whatever feels right

×××

I used to obsess about the epistemology of right and wrong, losing myself in wormholes of intellectualizations and calculations and approximations of the truth. Until I discovered that each day would disappear with all my recorded and unalterable mistakes and flaws, never to be recovered and each morning would meet me disgruntled, ashamed, begging it to go away until I could figure out how to live a day without mistakes. But no.

And every time I arrived at a piece of truth it simply pushed me into a new realm where the unknowns only multiplied exponentially. All the while, my heart was paying the price of being a scribe for a ruthless dictator. I learnt that my feelings were the perfect heuristic system for me to learn what I needed, when I needed it. It was never about arriving at perfection or omniscience because what began incomplete can’t grasp perfection. But it can grasp its own nature. And that’s all that matters now, that I learn to be in alignment with the self and to be the transmitter of my own frequency, not just the receptor of static junk.

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