madness

sometimes insanity doesn't really exist. just normal people with normal thoughts, normal feelings. normal lives. but then, like a cancer, something changes and the normal becomes more than normal. and too much of anything can quickly turn to harm. it becomes too much.

interest turns to infatuation. infatuation turns to obsession. obsession turns to madness.

it spins in a vicious cycle of letting go and embracing, holding on to the insignificant and remembering the tiny moments of peace. refusing to let them go and then hating them for leaving you. leaving you so alone.

it's the turn of a coin, tumbling through the air, always falling, but never caught. 

it seems so sad to think of it, so unfortunate a state. pity for the mad ones. 

then i realize.

i've been mad all along.

chaos

elements of randomness dominate much of our lives. the universe relentlessly fills existence with tiny choices that accumulate to the most immense and daunting of decisions. at those moments, everything that lies in the past of our lives has culminated to that one instant where the decision presents itself. who we were has determined who we are and in kind who we will be, but none of those people ever being truly the same.

the organic nature of the universe forms around each of the choices of every single person in the world, the fluid tendency to shift and warp making every person invariably connected with every other person in existence, spanning even across time. we all affect each other, most often without realizing it and entirely ignorant of how far a single touch really goes. 

and in turn the universe reaches out to touch us back. the constants work to keep our lives spinning as they should, as they have before or at times it will let us taste a new life to see how much further we can go, how much more we can be.

we are most richly rewarded when we give in to the forces beyond ourselves, when we turn our lives over to luck or chance, chaos or faith. when we give our lives to the turn of a coin or the raging seas around us or to God, we are given opportunities to be more than ourselves, to be a part of something greater.

the universe is perfectly crafted, the minute components like clockwork, ebbing and turning in perfect harmony. 

it's funny how often we forget that...

Ghosts

we follow footsteps in life, treading the paths of ones already far gone.

we follow hoping to know them, thinking by some measure that we may walk their journey for ourselves. we try to know the ghosts to whom these prints belong. but we're chasing echoes. those whose paths we trek are long dead, they live with the face of of another and have gone on so far. we follow strangers.

they have gone on so far from me, these ghosts i once knew. i desperately try to follow the way they once went, but that path is theirs and gone with them and never will i trod upon it. i will never again see my ghosts. no matter how far or long i echo behind them i will never ever catch up.

so i trudge through winter snow with only the mementos of another life and the memory that i once lived.