Sometimes, those of us who are born into society don't seem to fit it's particular nature. They look around themselves, and ask..."What am I doing here?" and then they ask "What are we doing here?" and sometimes, the answer they find, scares the hell out of them.
But then, then they realize that the ebb and flow of space-time allow for the fractal patterns of all life to change, however slightly, to affect for the greater good.
When they forget that, and they become so distraught--and afraid for all those they love--they start to try and help people understand what they see. Sometimes it's overbearing, because we've all been taught not to question--but to make statements.
Why do we fear answers?
Recently, I've been learning to stop fearing. And to stop hiding. And to remember the heart of gold we're all born with.
So excuse this rough transition.
I love you, even if you don't know me.
I love you, even if you hate me.
Because even if you come from a different background, or have different hair color...if the world was populated with me, all we'd be doing is asking questions. So thanks. Thanks for being there.