Hesitation made me miss
Opportunities turned into a wish
That I made the effort to be in your midst
I took the present for granted
Now Im haunted by my inaction, when I reminisce
Plans pushed off and dismissed
Because I never considered a world in which you didn't exist
Denying delays processing, the news didn't stick
It took a few weeks before the reality hit
My numb stone face fortress diminished to piles of brick
Exposed and vulnerable
I've experienced death but none ever hurt like this
Life is fleeting, death is patient and waiting
Mortal shells fickle, their hold on our spirits strained with the days
The future perpetual in its becoming the past
Our lingering end appears random and quick
Indescriminate is the embrace of demise
Inevitable is its kiss
The debt of borrowed breath will one day seek repayment
Take time today, or spend tomorrow longing and aching
Don't waste life in fear, but never forget
You dont have forever, don't waste it wasting time
All we have is today, tomorrow never comes.

Infinite consciousness
The very source responsible for constructing everything that is
And so we came to be
In all of us is a piece of this divine energy
We are a direct expression of God
Each of us is a Universe of our own
As above so below
Tiny pixels configured into fractal patterns
Universal law applies to the largest galaxy the same way it does the smallest cell
The brains neuronal network is identical to that of the cosmic web
Could the Universe just be one giant brain?
Clusters of galaxies billions of light years across like brain cells creating synaptic connections
What if we are Gods and our minds are Universes too
Our imagination is manifesting consciousness forming stars and planetary ecosystems
The big bang could have been the birth of the God whos consciousness we reside in
Its mind exploding with activity as life electrified the body
I don't think we happened by accident
I believe the whole purpose of the Universe is to cultivate life and its probably filled with it
We refer to life as creation, and everything was created somehow
But why does anyone create?
For passion, expression, anything we make is art.
Whats left is a piece of the artists heart and soul.
What the creator produces is a direct rendition and interpretation of themselves
Trillions of planets evolve slowly with patience and precision
Without haste, this perfect reality is accomplished
Trees give off the oxygen we breath, and we exhale carbon dioxide for them in return
Perfect harmony
Some form of intelligence has to be responsible for this
This Macrocosm is too immaculate to have occurred by mistake.

Pointless small talk
Lack of depth
Pretentious shallow words
Mask the fear of vulnerability
Energy expelled and wasted
Deceptive and illusive
Illusion created with purpose
Smoke and mirrors
Traps and dead ends set
As a way to remain a mystery
Role playing to please
For the sake of blending in
Just to feel empty and unfulfilled
Pouring into other cups
Has yours dry collecting dust
Lonely in the crowd
Surrounded by incessant sound
Drowns out any profound thought
Incomprehensible chatter
Tuned out and bored
Overstimulating speech unabsorbed
Numb dissociated indifference
Im slowly losing interest
Exhausted by the emotionally illiterate
Authenticity seems unrealistic
Real is reduced to pointless small talk