With in the mind, is a maze. A maze that twists and turns, confuses and demeans all those who stand before it so much, that its a defense, a shield. Even ones self have trouble facing what their own conscious has created.
Fear, distraught, confusion, secrets. We hide everything with in or behind this maze, to hide them from public eyes. In seeing something or hearing something that hurts us, we immediately hide and disconnect ourselves. Sometimes we put ourselves out there in order to better protect ourselves, fearful of our feelings or emotions breaking. In one way or another, all do it, and all fall with in the routine.
Yet in the same sequence, we fight it and try to be less with in our maze. Walking out of our comfort zone to deny our fears control, stop our minds from corroding, and our souls from wanning. Despite our nature to hide the things that hurt us the most, we desire to let them be seen. Attention is our greatest hunger, whether or not we notice it or not. Maybe not from many, but attention from one or two other souls out there, is what every life wants, what each life needs.
A person can claim that they don't need others. Indeed, a person can live on their own, with out another soul to give them attention, or love them, care for them. Even another soul to hate them. Yet, what good is life if there is nothing or no one to make you smile?
In trying to point out another persons personality, or speaking of another person, in some sense, you try to gain that persons or other persons attention. Like teasing the girl or boy you like when you were younger. Trying to gain their attention, to get them to look at you in any way or form. Whether hated or liked, they looked at you, and they spoke to you, that was enough for you. No matter how you wished they would like you back, most of the time, it was unlikely. But with that small chance of it so happening that they began to like you back, you continued. Enjoying what little attention you gained from this crush of yours.
Hope is a thing that is keeping us alive. We hope for everything. Hoping to be successful. Hoping that people will survive, that they will look at you, that you will have your moment of precious memories. In hoping that everything goes well, that this or that will happen. That you will finally get to meet the friend you have had for so long. We find that hoping keeps us alive, wishing, seeing something. Much of the time, the hope is broken, and is lost. We find that we hoped for nothing, yet we keep hoping until the day we die, because if we don't, we have nothing.
To not hope, is to lose the light that you want to see. To keep hoping, is to see a new light with each thing that comes to you. To make the best of everything, is hoping. Hope, is what brings you to a beautiful day, despite losing an important loved one the day before. Corny with in all else, hope is sometimes our own demise.
Attention is the hope we dream of, and hope is the attention we create with each passing day. In the end, all humans are attention whores. Thinking being in trouble will gain us attention, yet, it is with out a doubt, a bad way to live ones life. To be surrounded and trying to get attention by using the bad happenings of life. Yet all have done it once...or most all have done it once.
Life is funny. People are funny. There are only the ways of creating your own thoughts, your own processes. Ones words can mimic or be much like your own, but you can not base your own opinions upon theres. Others opinions mix with yours, and there for you begin to think, to create your own. Opinions. Thoughts. Thoughts are what are your own. To look at something and create the thought that becomes an opinion....
What is your opinion? About a leaf, about attention. To think about one thing, you create a new topic with in your mind, and there for, everything keeps going until it comes back around itself, and you hit a dead end. There, a new pathway is created, trying to find away through the maze, trying to understand everything. All your secrets, disease, fears and opinions. Until you get to the other end of the maze. In all hopes, you finish before, or on the day of your death, before you pass on to where ever it is your soul may go. But whether you find your way or not, is merely upon your own. Will it make you happy to get there? Or is it that the process of getting there becomes you, becomes the fun that is life, the laughter, the crying the love, hate, despise, horror, and excitement.
Where are you in your maze? Or is it a maze at all?
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