The Art of Living


Do you know what happens when you light a match and don’t use it? It lights the fire, oh yes, it creates a spark just before the flame, but when you just hold it, not utilizing it, not letting the light engulf something else, the fire? It burns out.
That’s how people are like, that’s how relationships are. You hold on to the fire too long, testing it, teasing it, watching it dance as it creates shadows all around, but eventually, that fire is going to burn out on its own.
I don’t know if I’ve figured out life in all these twenty-two years on earth, there’s a lot yet to figure out, a long way to go, I know.
I’ve seen a lot of pain, a lot of happiness, a lot of deception and a lot of deceit, yet an idealist inside me holds a torch to the idea, that people sometimes find a way to surprise you. In their weakest hours, in their most hurtful of phases, when they hit rock bottom the outer shell cracks, revealing what’s inside. In one’s own vulnerability lies the mere essence of their being. What you say and what you think when you’re that low below, is the only truth in your world, provided you embrace it.
Your life is made up of stepping-stones, there is no final destination, it’s all just from and to, there lies no real plan, if it’s a game, you’ll win either way.
You will win pain, you will win interminable laughter, you will win ecstatic outbursts, you will win love and then, if you’re lucky enough, you will win the loss of that love. All these, just stepping-stones, none of them take you back, they all take you forward. That’s the kind of world we are meant for. Imperfection and flaws, all original in their own aspect, sent down to learn the art of living, of surviving and living yet again.
In a perfect world, we would be sent down to laugh, to stay toddlers, running around in meadows, unaware, innocent. Without knowledge of war, of misery, of freedom and of happiness.
Can you imagine living in a perfect world? Do you want to? Doesn’t it seem absurd that perfection is so imperfect in substance, and scars and wounds hold beauty like nothing else, for they give credit to, for they give justice to and because they make you understand the idea of life being worth it all at the end of it.

Fire

So dream your dreams, hold on to hope and when you tire out, crash. It’s called for. You were not created to be flawless, not created to be unbroken, you were created to fall, crash and burn, to get back up again, to grow even when your roots feel too heavy to let go of. Blossom with the idea, that you were made to live.

When you light a match, it sparkles, just before the flame lights, there is a beautiful color of blue and red, that hues in undertones before the fire stands magnificently, ready to burn. Ready to empower.
All that burns, eventually turns to dust, but remember to be magnificent when you burn so bright, for that is the only way to live.

“I believe the universe wants to be noticed. I think the universe is improbably biased toward the consciousness, that it rewards intelligence in part because the universe enjoys its elegance being observed. And who am I, living in the middle of history, to tell the universe that it-or my observation of it-is temporary?”
The Fault in our Stars
-John Green

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