I knew being real was a journey that was worthwhile. But the realest thing you can learn is that most are NOT real, THAT is real. When you open your mind sometimes you think everyone else sees things the way you do. You think everyone else is real until they prove time and time again that they arenât. Unless you meet someone that is truly rare. You think someone is different and thinks like you, and then their true colors reveal themselves. The important thing here is to not find someone that thinks alike, and I am aware we are all so uniquely different that it wouldnât make sense that others think like me. But in my individual experience, never having experienced another way, I forget people donât mean what they say. Even the ones that appear the most authentic and noble. Nothing is as it seems and thatâs the realest that shit gets, but if I could go back to when I decided to be real, I wouldnât change a thing. I accepted the lonely journey and said I was brave enough. You go through life and learn not everyone is willing to be brave and face themselves. Iâm not saying Iâm not afraid. I feel like sometimes I do shy away from challenges. But I want to try and at least acknowledge truth when it comes along and see other peopleâs truths even when they canât see it for themselves. Sometimes I get upset people arenât real but then I remember my empathy. They canât help it, they canât even face their own demons. It takes a little bit of insanity to make peace with your demons, accepting the insanity of our nature and just realizing it is what it is, but thatâs actually when the peace comes. What a paradox everything truly is. I forget sometimes.
theartofmadeline
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