Why Would You Ask Me
I have great conversations with my friends and enjoy exchanging ideas. I can talk your ear off about random topics, conspiracies, something that we merely know about, but also can ponder and forge thoughts about it. Although, I am also super avoidant when the topics come up that are centered around me and my personal life. Or I get irritated when someone asks me specific question that has to do about me even though they already know everything. At that moment of second reminding, I feel exposed. This is when they get to know the actual truth, the real interrogation followed by silence that empties the room for echo of truth to come out, the moment they have been waiting for all their lives finally has arrived. Its short and very intense, yet it feels like that is all the reason universe was created, at that moment nothing mattered, nothing had enough to say or important enough to come up. Narrators of existence take pause alongside because what they narrate is not as interesting as what I have to say. Life becomes as real again, the moment you lived in past is being questioned now, the rush of putting words together brining the past to current set up, do they know that I have to live it twice, once to experience it another time to talk about it.
Yes, They Don’t
They don’t want to know, really, and they don’t care to know at all, its the act of wanting to know. A way to give them break narrating their existence all the time. I am still working on my approaches of how to be more responsive and be less scared and rushed, it is not a bad thing neither it is a good thing. It is a way to be connected, to matter to certain extend. Even though it is dreading, it is also relief.
Build The Walls Upside
Then I am asked that the second time and its third time reminding and fourth time re-living, this is when I am really irritated. At this point the narrators of existence moved on, it is the loudest set-up, and existence is no longer interested to empty the walls of being to fill it with my truth. To existence it does not matter no more, neither to person that is asking it, this time it matters for context. The invisible block of perception that you have been building, its like you are bottom of that truth handing bricks. This time, builder of existence pause and look down upon you for more. This time there is no narrating or pause for to listen for echoes of truth, but merely to build something that reflect that truth without telling. This repetition will go on and on because it each stages of being asked existence brings forth different functions but with same attentiveness of first time.
When the fifth time asking and sixth time reminding, its no longer the truth or building up to the truth, now it is part of you. Out of all the strings of existence that makes you, that one string is particularly red and yellow. It shines and is self representing. Existence and the ones participating in it no longer empty the space, your truth is no longer foreign even to parts of you that were still fighting that truth, or parts of you that wanted to understand it. You no longer summon the great creators for a void of thoughts and sharp attention when you speak about your truth. Universe no longer assists you with words, grasp of air, a hand of comfort, a moment of silence. Are you traumatized?, sure. Are you depleted? absolutely. Then the plays of existence repeat. The cycle had beginning and seems to have no end, with each stage every inch of light shines through. The cords of truth that was anchored the fabric of you being absorbs all that shine. With each interaction and story telling the walls of truth that you built in earlier stages gather its meaning. It is no longer amusing building, but a fort of representation.
Want to read more:
Check out -> What Is The Currency of This Reality – Behind Works of Powerful Mechanism, Attention.
Leave a comment