Everyday, I make decisions, and all of them matter to some degree; I may or may not have proof one day, but I still have to make other choices, until that time.
One day we all will come into an understanding, that our lives are only a story which we tell ourselves; and we are the only ones watching the director's cut.
It's not like I have no other deliberations or considerations; but Time, is my hope, my fear, my destroyer, and my salvation. It is always lacking, always sufficient, always pending, and yet, never ending.
We constantly seem to look for meaning and purpose, in everything we encounter and things which happen to us; what is the sign, which we are seeking, and what answers will it provide?
Sometimes the path is clear, and it's direction is desired. However, some paths are not clear, and don't seem to go where we want; but it may be the direction we need.
I moan in despair at the sheer hope of love. Reach for substance beneath; to transport it above. Are they elusive by reaction or by scheme; why do they hide. If they are so strong; these emotions should be free and abide.
It's a new day, I would suppose; filled with dreams galore. A new chance, to reach new heights, go out and explore. We can't do this alone; we should have learned this all before. Rebuild from our broken union; our strength, we must restore.