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“There are love stories, and there is obliteration into love.” – Rumi

“Your desire must be disciplined, and what you want to happen in time, sacrificed.” – Rumi

Metaphor could possibly be the most important thing at your disposal.
And it’s possible the whole of your life is a metaphor for something.
And what could that be?
A studyer of history.
A studyer of present.
But none of that can be symbolized because none of that can be touched.
A future symbol?
Your future, if there ever was one, was contained in your beginning.
A death encoded into the DNA arising at your birth.
You were a human recipe, a seed of plan, at your birth.
You flowered into youth.
You seeded other flowers.
You understood very early that all was yours.
You attempted to play games of participation.
You excelled at the bodily ones – the baseball, the surfing, the hockey and tennis.
You attempted the conceptual ones – like marriage, careering and belonging.
You swayed in the wind, thing grown from seed.
And you ended up finding a holy ghost of action.
Swaying in the wind is all.
And damn it feels good.