This Place

These few weeks have been a sort of revelation of sorts. Transits between jumbles of tangled thoughts and zoned-out silence, I realised, have placed me on a well-sought after pedestal titled acceptance, obedience and patience.

I have to admit, it was not my desire to end up here. In fact, now that I stand here at this higher place looking down, I cannot recall the details of the journey here. One would naturally think that the long and trecherous journey would be at the front of the sufferers' mind as oppose to the destination. How so different, how so different.

Everything I have come to realise in these recent times have revolved around the notion of death. We all know what death is; a natural end to all things living. But what define the things living? And what happens when one is fearful of other things, things that we think are worst than mortal death?

And so my answer lies in patience and obedience and acceptance. After all, everything here living or dead, imaginary or real, transient or permanent, current or past are all but just a prelude to death.

And like I say, all things end sometime.