In a race of finding one's true self, I set it up to become real. They beat me to it, as I constantly chase my running truth, discovering, dying and living again and again, and still, with my true self, on a never ending tag race in life, and I, the unwearied "it".
When I almost thought I would catch up to her, discover, get her found, and understand her, she leaps. A strong and certain leap no one predicted, not even herself.
Don't worry. It's actually a good thing. To be continuously growing, to be always making new paths to flow, to be that new river no one knows about.
This time, winning the race means losing the battle.
Let's always move forward.
You and I.
— Pudding Emperor ⚓
A/N
Winning the race = finding one's self
battle = growth
If you have found what defines you, it may be building a wall to stop you from growing.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
My Golden Blues
PoesíaAll my sadness is now significant. A collection of original prose and poetry collected over time.
