The Ramifications of Existence

How can one person, so caught up in the moment, busy with the task of being alive, get trapped within one's own mind, to be troubled so deeply by events beyond our own control, that happen to all living beings, a realm of perpetual permanence.

Perhaps living is really nothing more then being aware of the fact that one is temporary, someone I know quite well said the very fact that is it so, is what makes it beautiful, and yet we battle our emotions, our thoughts which would ask us to live forever, love forever, dream forever, fight forever.

Yet this simply can not be, we are beings of a delicate nature, forced into this plane of existence with a scream and some tears, we have no choice in this, no matter how we try, we all walk towards the long night eventually, be it alone, or surrounded by loved ones, the destination is the same.

It is this very thought that makes me realize this very pattern of ideas is pointless, if one spends the life they have focusing on the forest at the end of the path, they will miss the flowers they walk upon on the way.

To live is not to be defined by death, to live is to spend every moment and hour aware of the fact that you are alive, and that is all you can ask for, spend every hour saying the things you wish not say.

Alas one day you will not be able to say them, and it is this very tragedy that makes the beauty in life so evident, us beings of a mere fleshy nature will not last as long as say a mountain top, but we have one upper hand that leads us towards a place that very mountain top could never reach, we are alive.

You may face hardship on the path to the mountain top, you may gaze upon ravines so deep and dark that even the colours fill your soul with horror, and if you, yourself dear reader, may be one unlucky enough to venture down into such a ravine, then know that it is nothing more then a trial one has to face to reach the mountain top, it will never be anything more than a setback.

But in reality, these set backs are nothing to fear, these ravines I keep sputtering on about are the very trials and tribulations that define us as people, the way we may pass them, or if we are to fall and get stuck, how we may navigate them, the very personal induvial nature of these ravines is what will make us as people, these are the stories dear reader so deep and personal, that they may be etched upon the face you carry about yourself, without any such on looker ever knowing the tale, the way your carry yourself, how you speak at a party, these are the manners of your being, and they are carved and created by the very horror of each person's existence, so wear them proudly, speak tall tales of the triumphs you have reached, tell every man, woman and child that you are alive, and you have been through so much just to be so.

And when my dear reader you reach that mountain top, look upon the valley and ponder to yourself, that you are alive, and you have made it.

So look upon the treetops, marvel at the birds, walk along the beach, scream at the top of your very lungs if not for no other cause than the fact that you are alive, and that is all the reason you need.