Quoted By:
boy, it comes from a temporal disposition, that i become humbly willing to forgive, or arrogantly willing to hold a grudge. there is no concentrated effort on my end, or fateful intuitive knowing whether i decide for, or against. i am merely the chariot of my being, driven by emotion. none of my thoughts can truly be considered my own, just a borrowing from, or a molded to. therefore, what becomes of forgiveness, other than an act to reinforce this persona i've identified with and become attached to, in this human form?
none of that truly defines me, nothing does, as i am limitless in physicality, formless in thought, and boundless in potential. time has lost it's grasp on me, and i have become eternally everything, and nothing. what, then, becomes of life, but a trivial exercise in both realizing your outstanding excellence, yet recognizing your humiliating mediocrity? we are wabi-sabi; we are perfectly imperfect; we are human.
