What keeps me…

From doing, being, knowing, accepting… Li/o-ving? Who knows.  I do.  Except that I don’t, or at least won’t accept it.  Here I am dealing with it all.  I don’t get a choice if I want to accept it, because I can’t do anything except that.  It’s my only choice, only option, only path.  I know that’s not true.  I know it’s not real.  Then I wake up and the veil shown through, isn’t the scene I was hoping for.  I really intended this to be a love story full of hope, fountains, woodland creatures and bubbles floating through the air with ease.

lol, well that all exists.  In addition to the creamy fluffy pie filling, is the crust.  Wether or not I like it, it’s there.  It’s not my favorite part.  Never has been.  I know it’s necessary though.  Always there, for what could this be otherwise?  Just pudding?  No, that wouldn’t suffice.  Living a life of just fluffiness.  Wheres the strength, the perseverance, the solid base to rest on?  That’s the crust of our lives.  Of mine.  It’s gritty, rough, dark, submerged.  It might taste good finally, but almost never initially.  It must be just that way.  For without it, who would we be?

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