taking solace in the fact I’m formless for now

and I’ll see what’s to come

there’s a beauty to the fact we’re left questioning, but what we find is only worth what it is because we were once so lost we never never knew there was a thing to find

it’s the sacredness of experience and what can’t be repeated or pulled into perfect equations that make everything make sense. It’s the poetry of what doesn’t make sense until it does and when we understand why it wasn’t supposed to before a single moment

–as soon as you think you understand anything, it just disperses because nothing is static. It’s no more inexplicable, it’s just as inexplicable, or perhaps less. But all this doesn’t exist to be understood, just experienced and experience is sacred–

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