Sometimes I think we live through things only to be able to
tell them, to bear witness, to say this happened.
And it wasn't to someone else. It was to me. And I lived despite it.
Sometimes I think we live to beat the odds. And sometimes I agree
that life can only begin with the knowledge of death. That it can all
end, even when you least want it to.
It's scary...and lucky...how much we can forget. Scary because we think
the past gives us our bearing, and lucky because in those moments I'm
talking about, you realize it doesn't. And it never had to.
I am not a crazy , even though they mistook me for one. I live in
the same world as the rest of you.Only I saw more of it.
And the seeing is the only way you can hear what the truth around you
is saying: you can always start believing in things you don't
already believing in. And, while you're alive, it's never too late.
I promise you, No matter how bad the days and things around you
look, they look better awake than they do asleep. I can offer you
some proof: when you die, there's only one thing you want to have
happen...sometimes so badly it comes true, I guess. You want to come back.
