The only one I cheat is myself. Okay, so I read, but is reading global conspiracy trash on the internet actually reading? Oh, and I practice. But is staying in the view while I manage to deal with inept sentient morons at work, actually practice? Yes, I did do a workout for at least 20 minutes, albeit, not yoga. However, I am writing....this, anyway.
Someone once told me I was "exempt". I know what they meant, and it was profound and mystical. Now, whatever they meant by that it hardly matters when one is not satisfied with one's self. I have always stood at the edge of the cliff awed by the splendid scene before me. Yet, I indulge in my fears, too timid in my spirit to become one with that splendour. Oh what I have held myself back from. What have I denied to let myself become. And for what? For who?
Tonight, I feel a bit lost. A bit like I have lost. I wonder where my fight went? I wonder where my passion and fire went? As a Buddhist this is supposed to be good, right? No, not in this way.
When he cheated me, I started cheating myself. Yeah, I am him. I am just like him.
I take my fire back.
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