So many times I've heard that all are one. No one calls to me. No one shows their face(s) to me. The wind blows and the eerie silence seems to be the answer every time. Going through an existential crisis was something strange to me, and it all seemed so pointless. All we have to learn is we are a part of nature & not separate. The art of living itself is a joke.
There is always the art of following your roots for a small piece of enlightenment. Sad to say, all roots are nourished by bloodshed. Being detached from the real world consumed me, and being in tune with the real world saddened me. Almost made me think the deities consider us all a big joke. If we are not living in strife our brains create it for us. My only comfort are the hills and trees, and the wind that flows through it. If I am needed, you know where to find me.
-A small entry