My face feels like melting candle wax and the decision to temporarily get my individuality back feels like a rather self loathing act of rebellion.
I most certainly am without a cause.
I need a cause to feel for.
Otherwise I’m a broccoli.
Not the dragon fruit I always dreamed I was.
The broccoli.
The tree that, though green, has rooted itself in cuisine relished by even the least affected by produce or anything grown in the ground. Screw writing rules.
I have lost my grammar and punctuating skills in a bad game of Russian Roulette.
No dice, go figure.
Now if I could draw your attention back to the dragon fruit.
It is an elusive creature that is incredibly difficult to justify its presence. To want something so beautiful and unattainable.
I’m sure it would be an absolutely beautiful experience to be a part of.
Or to become one.
Oh to become one.
If read on its own, without any previous context, you realise that you wish to become a whole entity.
Oh to become one.
One with the world?
One with people?
One with nature?
One with yourself?
Or have all of this facets been part of One already, the oneness we seek is all one step at a time, ironically, as you see the one in everything, face them and cherish them and then systematically move on to the next form of oneness you’ll encounter.
One at a time.