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The World. The Maze.
Being alive is like playing a game in a maze.
Everyone is born, and everyone dies in that maze.
Some spend their entire lives searching for a way, an exit, and something lost. Some people run into each other, some collide, as they have brief conversations and small talks about their journey in the maze.
“How long have you been here? I wonder…”
“Do you know how we could find the exit?”
“How come you’ve never found it all the while you’ve been here?”
Having an old life doesn’t mean we gain experience as well. They don’t come together. They exist on their own, but they both want you and need you for something way bigger than we are.
Not everyone finds that which is bigger than the heavy breaths we’ve taken since day one, so they’ll be there, in the maze, searching for answers. And for the solution to a problem that they can’t explain, neither comprehend by their little minds.
Even though we exist in our little story blocks and life bubbles, as separate beings with our souls and, well, Spirit, we co-exist in that maze that births unique books of life from our brief chapters and life episodes.
“So what if I told you every ocean, sea, lake, and waterfall comprises every teardrop we’ve shed in our brief episodes, and the pang called life?”
“What if I told you every dirt and soil are the bodies of our loved ones and ancestors who have died from generation after generation, but they still live on to make sure we live on as well?”
...
Everyone is born, and everyone dies in that maze.
Some spend their entire lives searching for a way, an exit, and something lost. Some people run into each other, some collide, as they have brief conversations and small talks about their journey in the maze.
“How long have you been here? I wonder…”
“Do you know how we could find the exit?”
“How come you’ve never found it all the while you’ve been here?”
Having an old life doesn’t mean we gain experience as well. They don’t come together. They exist on their own, but they both want you and need you for something way bigger than we are.
Not everyone finds that which is bigger than the heavy breaths we’ve taken since day one, so they’ll be there, in the maze, searching for answers. And for the solution to a problem that they can’t explain, neither comprehend by their little minds.
Even though we exist in our little story blocks and life bubbles, as separate beings with our souls and, well, Spirit, we co-exist in that maze that births unique books of life from our brief chapters and life episodes.
“So what if I told you every ocean, sea, lake, and waterfall comprises every teardrop we’ve shed in our brief episodes, and the pang called life?”
“What if I told you every dirt and soil are the bodies of our loved ones and ancestors who have died from generation after generation, but they still live on to make sure we live on as well?”
...
