Someone tried to explain Naruto to me. “There’s lots of epic battles, the hero always wins and everyone have very intricate backstories.” My brother added that it’s also very long and complex and that I should totally check it out if I had time to spare. To be honest, “samurai space fox with lightsabers” sounded much more fun. And the fact that nobody really knows what’s really going on. Uh, if you do happen to like enjoy it and actually know anything about it, then good for you. Me? Nope, not getting there. At all.
At the same time, “war” is now a standard form of time measurement. According to someone who tells me: “scars are magic”.
And now over to something completely different.
There is a disturbance in my routine. It comes from everywhere and within, all at once, all at the same time. It promises change, forcing the issue of adaptation upon me like a reluctant leader accepting the role thrusted upon one self. I’m not sure how to fight it. I’m not sure I should fight it. All I know is that when the cold comes I’ll freeze.
Today is a day. Like yesterday was a day. As well as the day before. And the day before that.
The list of days goes on. What about tomorrow, what kind of day will you make?
Being a butterfly isn’t the worst life one can have. Being a larva, waiting for the transformation to begin isn’t either, I guess. Being the little cocoon, the cordial recluse, spending the time dreaming in a state of limbo… Who knows what cocoons dreams in the lithe passing of time.
A creature, created, that is what I seek to become. Made by science and knowledge that exists in our time, putting limits to the test and faith. Yet what I am inside was always beautiful.
So are you.
So are you.