Things that I create
And all the things that create me
Are all the thing that happened to me
All the traumas that unfold in self-expression
The natural progression of this tide I call life
Endless strife to find a balance
I know I'll never find
So is it useless?
Is it just waste of time?
From my point of view that might be the case
But it's a trip after all.
It's a trip worth taking
It's a life worth living
An experience of perception
Sensation of existance
through this life of creation
This reality I roam through
I'm not sure are any of you really there
Or do you just exist here
So that you could once say goodbye to me
And to say good bye to the reality
And disolve in thin air the moment I close my eyes
For the last time.
I am not sure if any of us is real
But I want to let you know;
You're all quite dear to me.
I am not sure if I truly exist.
And since I can't be sure you exist
It's not much of a consolation
To have your validation for my existence.
This is the battle I can not win
The one that will consume me.
How can I know I ever existed,
If my existence is to be wiped away anyway?
We are all just swirling and dancing particles
And when they get tired of dancing with same partners
we cease to be
And then the particles switch partners
and continue dancing.
In that sense we are eternal.
But I am not.