Day 43

Brief but selfish, because sometimes I have to be:
How often I get re-repeating the echo of a shadow.
One sided conversations with fictionalized factors, and by end of day I've ended up hating or worshipping someone who has in actuality not spoken a single word.
With whom was I arguing. Of what was I lusting?
In both cases the answer is the same: myself.
And I will feed neither vanity nor shame. These appetites do not nurture.
These temporary spells of self indulgence and misdirection must be overcome. Shake your head. Clear the smoke from your ears. Lay down the load. Save your strength for the mountains to come.
Let me not act out of insecurity nor shame. Both are selfish, in perverse and warped ways.
Let my actions not be in service to an apology I never owed, but in pursuit of a bliss I am deserving of.
Not because it's expected. Not even because it's my right. But because it is worth my time to do so.
I am worth it. I am worthy of it.
That, is what love could be. What life could be.
A joy multiplied by the number of stars wished upon by those that could make every dream come true, if only they accepted that they are the wish granters in this empty universe.
That stars are our family too, and they're waiting for their turns to wish on you.
This irony is the last line and first verse of the song we won't get to hear, for having spent all of eternity making it.
Looking up and looking in are in fact the same thing.
So look.