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We Are All Sponges


I have been experiencing one of those soulful introspection’s lately. Then again, I always do, there always something to think about, to ponder over, to challenge the boundaries of your intellectual capacity. It’s amazing really, the intricacies of life itself, how everything braids itself together while begging to be ripped apart. A series of events over a extended period has paved the way for empowering revelations. After all it’s what we are all after, to dive into and discover the unknown, perpetually filling ourselves with new information and ideas. At least it’s what I seek, and I will clutch it dearly until the novelty wears off. Little did I know the predicament I would entangle myself in..


I’ve always held the conviction that the intense emotions and feelings we experience on both ends of the spectrum is vital to leading a full life – It’s what keeps us alive. Like a chronological sponge we absorb all of it in, filling up every pore, encompassing the elements of who we are. Enriching. Fulfilling. Gratifying. All at the same time. Take a cold hard look at anyone and I promise you s/he has a story to tell, the story of what they absorbed over the years, the story of their lives. 


Squeeze every drop of life out of yourself and see what you find. Rainbows, unicorns and butterflies or vile cesspools of toxic, bubbling sludge. Or do you find something innate? Lush, brooding despair. It is what someone I know found.


I was shocked into a mind numbing crunch at the severity of the situation. Not much was said, like a cryptic puzzle it was left unfinished, without closure. However, it was discernible that the sheer magnitude of self imposed guilt was crushing the very soul; manifesting like a entangling vine, creeping slowly but surely, spreading outwards like Medusa’s serpents. As someone who loves living, the zeal of being alive, I couldn’t begin comprehend. Am I too naive? Insular? As the confidant, I was supposed to speak words of wisdom so powerful it transcends imagination resulting in a paradigm shift. But I didn’t. I didn’t know how to. Then the real kicker explicitly reveals itself, set in cold stone, it carried no other connotation.


I am the complex, heaving mass of ambiguous matter that you wish to be remove. 


I wish I could squeeze this jet, stygian ink out. However, as the curator of my own museum, my intense desire to collect every shade of colour that exists overpowers it. I know this is just one of the many that I will discover. After all It is what I live by – Soak in every single shade into your sponge, you’ll need it to paint your masterpiece.