To Each His Own.

It was one of those nights where you had to force sleep onto yourself just because the moon was so high up in the sky. It was raining and rain generates surges of thoughts through ones veins. Every night my thoughts are stagnant but it is the rain that gave me the gift of logic that year. I had my very first epiphany that dark rainy day, and since then my life has been moving on quite well. To many I did not come across a life changing idea, but to me it was a change in my life that I will never forget. Among the drops of rain and the stillness of night I called on god to give me my strength. A few moments were past before I was able to realize the vision that was handed to me. I took my moments of silence and listened to the rhythm of the rain, and realized how imperfect the music of the world was. I realized how imperfect things become after a storm, and how imperfect I was among the imperfections. Everything in this world is imperfect, and everything in this world has its rhythm. I heard the rain last night, all night, and realized that if the rhythm of nature was imperfect, then so am I.

Do I remember the last time I saw myself smiling? Or crying? It seems that the world has exhausted emotion to a level where you can not tell the difference between the two. In this age of mobility emotions are expressed for the moment, and just that moment, because in an instant you’ll find yourself somewhere where that emotion is no longer applicable. Why do we deviate from self and try to become the machines that we have created. Man has longed to be the perfect creation, a complex that we see through the creation of the machine. The machine replaces the perfect man, and I have found that people won’t stop until they become that very same creation, their own creation, so they live their lives longing to become the machine.

Go back a few steps, breath, and realize how beautiful you can make your life be. Although we look at the sea and think its blue, it actually has a crimson hue. If you look at everything in this world it is crimson. If you don’t see what I see then you haven’t had the epiphany. You should imagine a color and then give it to the sea. It is only then that life becomes your own creation. After that you own everything, first your color, then everything. Think of a word, I think independence. My sea has a crimson tide, and it is independent. I still feel like my sea is more than that, my sea is strong. My sea has a crimson tide, independent, and strong. That is my sea. I own the sea. And If I keep giving the rest of the world colors the world will soon be mine.