Saturday, December 15, 2018

Credo

I was looking through my notebook from a Playwriting class I took in college and came across this Credo, written in 1997 by a much younger me. Surprisingly, it still applies.

I believe in the sound of the wind blowing through the trees. I believe in a mountain night so clear I can see the entire galaxy spiraling out before me. The feel of cold rain. The smell of the ocean. Sand between my toes. Jetty rocks cutting to my soles. Fireworks on all sides. Waves crashing. Silence. Stillness. Thought. Self-contained. Observant. Ant on a blade of grass. How small? How large? Equal. Different. Same substance. Laughter. The joining of souls that have met before. Separating to meet again. We hope. The pain of parting. Feeling the thread of a stretched connection. Feeling the threat of scissors. Unable to stop them. Remembrance. Shadows. Connected, but unclear. Sharing. Not sharing. What to hide? Me? My mask? You’ll never know. Multiple personalities? Maybe so. Dotting the is to avoid the next thought. Stalling. Protection. Safety. Revealing. One piece at a time. The ones I want to give. Some I don’t understand. Search for self. Search for knowledge. Will knowledge help find self? Or is it completely useless? Money. What it does. What it doesn’t do. The ability to live by denying the real life. Entitlement. To what? To whatever they want. I sometimes crave that stability. That ability to continue. Through my life and through others. Leaving a mark. Making an impact on the world and those I encounter in it. Not being forgotten— insignificant. Being needed. Value. Purpose.

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