There are some things about life from which I may never fully come to understand. I realize that in order to accept my reality, there is a lot to consider than what may lay beneath the surface. The outer world I live in and make a part of seems as trivial to myself now as it did for me when I first tried to make sense of the world around me, I suppose the real difference being, there's never been one straight answer for what all of this might signify. When I start to think about where I've gone, my thoughts travel instantly to where I've come from. To answer the first part, I must look back in search for my true inspiration to find necessity. This time-travel is not delusional on my part, it is necessary I recollect the past in my effort. For instance, I used to find limitations within my surroundings: as if the external part of my being would only limit me from becoming what I truly desired most. Now, looking back at that time seems much clearer to me than it did before. In short, did my experience not happen? Of course it did! (I was only not aware of it.) My point being questions of this nature are parallel to me without the cost of confusing myself.
This all speaks to me about, what changes have I made in my life that I've chosen to endure. Somehow, the poetry or the acting all mean so little to me, yet I never realized why I decided to consume the depression I suffered as result of many years of self-destructing habits. I need to change my ways, and I did what I needed to intuitively so. My greatest aspirations were ambitious in changing, adapting, transforming the inner part of my psyche into a magical sort of disguise. I was only unaware of it myself - being the challenge I somehow knew I had to undertake.
Today, I can see how important my decisions have become.
I'm reading an intriguing book as of late on the subject of happiness. I believe it inspires me, because I am worth it.
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