Are we are better not existing? Are we better being half-completed stories because ends are never happy to begin with? Are we better being distant memories of a bygone era, of diminishing into the past…of melting into sunsets? Are we better without ourselves?
Perhaps, perhaps we are. Some of the best moments in my life have been the moments where I have forgotten I exist. Perhaps we think too much -maybe if we just let ourselves be. Why do I care so much if the color blue looks the same to you as it does to me? Whether you’re filled with an abundance of somethings you can’t decipher? Maybe I care too much about things that don’t concern me.
Perhaps this is just a letter I wrote to someone and put it in the ocean. A virtual ocean. Perhaps you stumbled across it by chance. Perhaps you weren’t meant to read this. It’s not for you but is it? Funny isn’t it how we stumble across things. I tend to stumble on my own heart. Perhaps that’s the biggest hurdle in my life. The fact that after all this pondering I stumbled across the very beauty my heart yearned for most but couldn’t have- the beauty of non existence.
And of course this makes no sense and maybe you’ll want to think over it until you’re annoyed by it. Wouldn’t it have been better had I not clicked publish? What’s the point. I guess that’s it. There is no point. That’s why I love reasons so much. They seem to be everywhere and nowhere at all. They have mastered this art I cannot seem to master. The answers to “why” are always so beautiful because of this beauty called the beauty of non existence.