I am sat at a cafe. A Turkish cafe in London. So far everyone inside are Turkish. Maybe I should say Anatolian, as I find this description more suiting for beings of that land. Anyway back to the being sat.
My mind is racing faster than any speed car and any actual races for anything related to speed. Connecting from the previous writing about love, and the love of the Self, now we are here, unable to surrender to the mysteries of life, and instead, worrying.
I am often very saddened by how much we need to do only for survival itself. Life is at a pace so uncontrollable that is never decided by us, and we can only submit to the requirements, or we just, disappear? What happens to us?
Life in London to some seems glamorous because of what the city offers with art, but let me assure you, when you are not on stage or immersing yourself with culture and art, the day to day can be quite rough. Not only that life as we know it is not the same as before, and for everything we do, I am talking your average human creature, things require resources. Lack of money is making everyone live so far away from themselves, that even to get to a point they can be themselves, they don’t know when, and they don’t even know if. If that is possible. Is this acceptable to live a life without getting to really live a life?
