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The Hour of Confusion

It’s that time of night again. That late hour of unstoppable thought where one tries their hardest to enter the land of sleep, yet an immovable force blocks their path. Like a bright light that will not seem to go out when one's eyes cannot seem to take anymore of it. When the mind is an endless raceway of cars and the constant race of continues. 

The heart lingers on the past. What has happened seems to happen again. It recreates a truth out of half a lie. Appreciating. Wishing. Hoping. Yearning. The desire seems to flow like a river. Pulsing and thriving with an energy that could fuel a thousand galaxies. Yet something so lively is only a shadow of its former glory. The truth seems to lie only in the past, and the lie can only be the future. But is that really the best answer?

Surely, there must be a bright light out there. A beacon of hope in the treacherous night. Something that can be clung on to. Something that gives courage. Something that pushes one further and further. There is a future, however, and it is painted so brightly. Yet before we can reach it, will those colors fade throughout the flow of time?

The true image however is the one that is created by the very power of our being. What one materializes in their life. That must be the truth. That must be the very beacon that one continues to see.

If this is what really stands, then does that very desire really seem that significant? Why grasp expectation so tightly when solid action seems to be the only solution?

So then, which should one follow? Reality or expectation? Truth or lies? Action or hope?

Of course, isn't that one of the many decisions of life?

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