Waterdrops would waddle down the hillside every morning, following the path laid down by his ancestors in many years gone by. Each day, he descended—drawn by habit, by the patterns sewn into his life, with no qualms, no questions to be pondered—and each evening, he returned. It did not occur to Waterdrops to consider the question that occurs to you and I—why?—and so, daily, he wandered up and down the hill, was warmed beneath the sun, and gently, surely, with no hopes nor fears to fill, lived out his quiet life.
Tag: truth
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Where we find meaning, it’s deep within ourselves. Not out there—not on the internet. Not in the images of others, other lives, not in the lies—we eat them up, rapacious, with our eyes, until they eat our hearts. We swallow bites of presentation, of fabrication, and digest. We perceive, to occupy our minds. But beneath perception lies the truth inside—unoccupied, we find it in our dreams. The truth is there in music, played on heart-strings, composed upon our skins. The truth is there in tears brought forth by melodies divine, by poetry, by the pangs of night’s desire. These are the essences of meaning that lie beneath our love. Truth is not in shallowness and shortness, short attention spans, short thought. Not in the photos flashing on our phones, swiped and swept aside. The truth is there in notes and notions that run up and down our spines, shiver there, linger there, and infiltrate our souls. I cannot tell you what is truth—but I tell you, it is there.
Magical: Day One 