The power of imagination
Where it prevails is in between fantasy and reality.
I’ve always been the type of kid that lived in my head. Never conceding the emotion behind the character until the response became powerless.
You ask yourself these mysteries, which leads to not knowing your self-worth at times.
This thing we call “self,” what is it? Is it who we are? Or is it the evaluation of others that made us who we are?
Going through cancer, this thing called “self” turned into a label.
Labels. Why do we label everything without really understanding the meaning? We show a lack of emotion towards something we don’t understand. We push people away when in reality what we want is to keep them close.
As a kid growing up, I lived in a sheltered box of my imagination. My imagination became my fairy tale, which allowed it to die in the eyes of others’ lack of imagination.
We pretend that who we are is just this thing we call “self.” When self is a bunch of things happening that led us to being. Being only happens in the present. We become what we are based on experience.
Words on words. We lose ourselves in the thought of what we think we are. Let it go.
We can’t go blaming everyone else for where we are now. Allow yourself to heal. Heal anything.
“Anything that leads to understanding, feel it. Don’t force the feeling of needing to feel. ”
When there’s routine in life, life feels structured. There was a time when I was going through cancer. Yes I said going through cancer, because to me it doesn’t live with me now. It was a experience that I faced that allowed me to grow through the pain.
There was a set routine. I knew what I needed to survive. Life after cancer has been extremely different. Not difficult. Just different. The biggest thing I had to understand after cancer was the fact that not everyone understood what it meant to survive. Everyone’s perception can be fogged up at times as they base it on what they feel are their theories to life, which lead them to make their own decision based on what they knew at the time.
Theories are very subjective. Experience is very subjective. The only thing objective is our surroundings. How we perceive it is merely how we see it.
There were times in my life when I didn’t want to coexist in the world. There was no need to coexist. One day, you won’t be here. One day, this whole thing will be over. Don’t allow yourself to live a long life with no meaning; live a short life with intent. In time, everything will come back to a cycle, and this cycle, we call life. When we allow ourselves to live in an experience that can serve us, everything else is noise. White noise in the back, distracting us.
People will hate you for bringing out colors that make them feel insecure, or you’ll hate them for doing that to you. Regardless of whichever way it is, there is always a side of something that doesn’t make sense in the long run. Why do we take so many things, and turn them into reactions that leave us feeling so left out of the world?