Tuesday, January 4, 2011

The infinitesimal can make universes.

There's a heavy weight lingering in my mind.
Pulling not only my thoughts, but also my thinking.
Not the content but the process, the way
ideas come into being.

This burden brings it down
like a boulder on top of a hill
One tiny push can escalate into mayhem and
I start to lose grasp on which way is right or what is real

The perception is also altered like a cold covering a disease.
Disguising itself with the season and its surroundings.
As others come out of it, the virus becomes unbearably strong and takes over
the body and soul.

Until I become neither better nor worse
Neither content nor sad
Neither dead nor alive.

Do not worry of how things are changing but be watchful of how it changes you.
Your way of life, even to the way you take a breath.
For an infinitesimal change in you has far greater weight than a complete change of everything else.

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