World, so many things happen. The noise that It produces, in such a silent and obscure atmosphere. To each their stories, to each their struggles, and to each their lives. A lot feel connected, belonging to something, someone, somewhere. Yet, the halt only works when at the bottom of things. The realization that loneliness exists, that sorrow and hollowness are dreadful, but only when this etiquette called anxiety or depression hit. Selfishness, because you forbid the soul from being aware until you fall because of an instant, or a person, or something that the universe has thrown at you. You embrace, you hold on, you even make a routine of it, yet, you do the most human thing you can, 'move on' those two words that humans seem to grab onto everytime something happens. The soul differs from whatever It is. It looks, and even overlooks. The brain, the heart, the feelings aren't connected to it, nothing is, It floats and It sees what the conscious is doing to the human vehicle It is occupying.
The dreaded journey happens everytime, and that one silent soul that used to share my quarters has left, with one cry and being held near me for a night, until I saw that It returned to what has shaped Its existence, earth. So the words of ''It is just me and you afterall Misty'' will never be spoken again, and It hurts. Humans, dear humans, you broke everything that once was. Only for being considerably open in that core, no filter have been made when I got created. The bond, there isn't one. The soul resides right where It is, and the human in the other corner being as selfish as any other creature. It sure takes a good reality to finally see what the world is, what humans are and how everything works. Like some sort of a pattern, everything does. Sadly.
Humans remain instinctively selfish. It is right in their core, It is something I have grown to see. No one is ready to do something for another If the heat gets unbearable, they would save their own skin. Why is it so much different when It comes to myself? Why do I remain even though I know that It will eventually be the end of me? Is it weakness, or overdoing devotion and loyalty. Is the soul this much stained by the events of life that It remains being haunted by the things that happen?
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Minimal Soul
RandomSimplicity is something that can be perceived in so many ways. The soul, Its core and the purpose behind emotions. Everything is a being on Its own.
