Left to drown; learned to breathe under water.
Words by Jítro Timbang
Well here we are, on the opposite side.
To some, the new beginning, to others, the beginning of the end.
This divide, I must admit, is unfortunate.
We could’ve all been part of this leap, though in true nature, in true balance, this is how it goes.
The sun still shines, the wind still blows, people still clock in, and there are those who’ve been left to rot that now glow.
Music is still euphoric, to wake up is still a blessing, the dreams that we thought were forgotten have come around again to say their new hello’s.
New connections strengthen as new neurons find new homes—it’s blissful, and I wouldn’t want anything else but this feeling of the unknown.
Even if this season is where everything falls, it’s a harvest of what we’ve grown. Perhaps: we were all where we were meant to be, and the lessons that had us breaking were meant to find new perspectives to see.
Had to make a collage out of that chaos, now I’ve made me a masterpiece—that piece is the life that I call, “All The Faults I’ve Own—The Old We Is Deceased.”
October 20th, 2024 — 4:32pm
