eMcembini

It’s beautiful

The undulating motions,

Emotions, that guide you gently along certain paths, tug you violently down others, or suddenly abandon you in absolute nothingness, which itself may be fertile, and bear fruit from seemingly nowhere;

Or sterile, leaving your soul to languish in the abyss of darkness – but sill, you exist, Vagabond.

It’s a fork. Omnipresent on your left, always giving you another way out, a minima. Nonetheless the sharp knife is equally present, on your right, ready to blindly pierce that to which your spirit sets it’s sight…

You have the power. Knowing how to use it is also what makes this beautiful. Creating perpetual inequalities from equality. Because nobody has more than one left, or right.

It’s exciting, as it is frightening.

Excitement and fear.

Pain and pleasure. Again what’s beautiful is the doses, which again, you can control, I assure you.

Faith is the cog’s lubricant. Without it, chances are you will be left in inertia. Ultimately, left alone.

Left. To be.

Can it ever feel right?