You see, I prefer the quiet. The heart that relies solely on the sweet, sweet mind attached to it. The kindness born from day one, looking for more love than hate, and hating that love roamed aloof.
But that hate grew no roots. Instead giving birth to understanding. Knowledge is the impervious skill that kept the hate from rooting. Knowledge grown from constant self-discovery. The low self-worth shed into permeable soil, catching beauty when least expected and leaving room for blooms to take flight, in light of understanding.
Philosophy must also find time to not make sense. In the moments when broken edges come together, the smoothing out of rough hewn corners must be earned. Gratitude lifts the wings of strength. Lifted to fly high into clean air and boundless freedom. Set adrift in a life without tethering to all the superficial charms that the shallow will offer. Life too, needs the lament of all we cannot control or sometimes fix, to deepen the divide between appreciation and regret.
Fuck the past and its impermeable dedication to memory. Deflate the echoing moments that belong lost to the time they were planted.
The now is here.