“When I despair, I remember that all through history the way of truth and love have always won,” – Mahatma Gandhi
Do you ever get that feeling, where you’re just simply so tired of your scars, of facing it everyday. Of the sadness that lingers deep in your bones. Of the weight of your heavy heart; the mournful air in your sigh?
Has the thought ever occurred to you, the desire to exist outside yourself, or these aspects that you have chosen to make yourself out of. Is it really a choice, or has your form been moulded out of them.
To exist apart from your experiences, to simply be you, and your experiences simply being experiences. Would that change how you feel towards life, family, people? Would that change your quality of life?
Would it be a life much happier, a life filled with freedom, or would it be a cold and heartless room; numb, dead, lifeless?