lost souls: rain, stars, and iced coffee
Does anyone remember how anything begins? Or how anything ends? For every story, every song, every movie has a beginning to an end and an end to a beginning, but what about the rest? What about prior to the beginning or after the end, and everything in between? No one cares about that, I guess. Everyone just wants to know how what begins and how what ends; the rest is history. The rest is nothing and everything at the same time, because those who want to see, want to feel, breathe in it all--they are the lost souls in the world. They are lost, searching, needing, and craving souls. They are you and they are me. Lost in this world of collateral damage, hoping to be rescued.
Searching for what can rescue them, whether that be a person or a drug or a hobby.
Needing whatever it is soon because they have drowned and they are six feet under, floating in alcohol and seizing due to heroin and crying because of a him or a her.
And craving--craving to die and to live all at once, for they know life is a beautiful disaster and they know about the good and the evil in this world; it has hurt them, numbed them, and misplaced them.
But maybe, all they need to do--what every one of us needs to do--is stop whatever it is we're doing. Stop searching. Stop needing. Stop craving. And be.
Just be.
warning: a majority of this work will be in lower case on purpose
