ALL

 I forgot who I was but did I ever really know somehow writing helps me figure it out and I haven't done that for some time now. some time now. i needed to repeat that to myself to understand what it means what it really really means. I may not ever know the meaning of my existence. I have searched fearfully, fearlessly, and endlessly for as long as I've existed. That isn't true. I lived in ignorant bliss as a child and that is what i like to fall back on. that is not totally tru either because i was not so ignorant of death and suffering as a young child but somewhere i lost that train of thinking and hopped a new one. It feeeels a lot better to live on the surface but every time I try the Truth finds me and hits me hard and I wonder why I tried to live a life that was not mine. Of course this is human and there is no such thing as being alone. I feel less lonely when I remember that. When I live that. Who was I ever trying to impress? Why did I need to? There is a lot to reconcile here. I think I would do best to remember those simple joys and simple loves. The grass the trees the sound of music the dirt the invisible current connecting all of us and all