I was marinating a bit on my frustration influence. Part of what keeps the dance so tantalizing is that while longing is suffering it is a delicious kind of suffering that teases the tongue and makes you want more. It’s a romantic tragedy a heart can feed on like a vampire. It is comprised of surreal moments before fantasy gets tainted with reality. If this is 7 fixed gluttony who wants to be “sober?”
But then I was looking through photos I’ve taken and was reminded… that sometimes reality brings surrealism… sometimes it’s better than the fantasy. Sometimes your wildest dream life turns out wilder, still. Like this moment captured where everything’s awash with blue and I wonder… how many moments have I missed just like this? How many moments dreaming of future fantasy have contained magic right in front of me?
Gratitude and presence is the key, I know, but do not practice.