I've been humbled so many times in the past month. It's such an amazing feeling. To feel small in a world so much outside of ourselves that you can't help but to realize something. I don't even know what that something is (which may possibly make this whole thing pointless, but I'll continue anyways). I'll try my best to stay on topic, thought I've never been to good at following one path.
I'm frightened by how easily I build back up after such humbling experiences. I'm profoundly touched by the efforts people take to step out of seemingly hopeless situations. Inspired by the joy on a child's face when they receive shoes, or water. And yet I walk away only with superfluous thoughts that mirror storybook aspirations. I get so emotionally involved that my investment ends up being counterproductive. I stare idly at a screen of tiny black words, in a big quite house, with no one but myself to hear the nonsense I come up with. But if they heard it would they listen? Would they see that, in all reality, the idea of being humbled, broken down, exposed, loved, is what makes me feel truly alive, and almost powerless, in the most opposite of connotations.
Power is given to the elite. To those deemed capable of more than just story book aspirations. In that sense, who holds power. I hold no power, and that makes me the most powerful. I want power over my life, and that is the easiest power to take hold of, and the easiest power to loose. With this power I dub myself powerful enough to make changes and make something more idle thoughts and idle words. I have no control over what happens today in someone's life, nor would I want that responsibility. In that sense I am powerless. But I choose to empower myself to work against the powers of men to effect the outcome of something more. And in doing so may hope to inspire someone else.
These somethings, and someones, are vague and vast, but they are there, and I intend to find them.
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