Human nature. Something in which I have had more skepticism than faith, but nevertheless, it never ceases to amaze me. Brittle bones and unstable tissue walking around, making entirely different worlds with each other... humanity is a beautiful thing. The complexity of each different feeling is astounding if one stops to think about it. What nerves, what cells prompt us to act as we do? Me personally, most people would describe me as a shy girl, one who covers her face with hair and perplexity. I suppose I have dabbled in illicit activity to earn a reputation otherwise, but with this Starting Over Point, I feel i have some leeway to personify myself as I am. it doesn't matter to me how many foreign grains and dusts line my arteries, how much smoke lines my lungs... how much guilt and shame still lingers from past experiences.
Forgive my descent into these matters, it just never fails to amaze me how much other people think of me than I think of myself. Its not that I am lacking esteem or pride (I have plenty of both), I just realise exactly who I am, and why I am that way.
The point I am trying to make, is that humans are painfully aware of themselves too, and of their mortality. Each day, our cells die off, one day, we will all lie still.
But yet we can still promise each other forever when we know we won't always be here... and we can still say "I love you" when we see dead skin decorating our eyes. Thats what I love about being human... its what I am thankful for.
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