Butterfly

You expect me now to start from A,and get to Z. But who knows me would know i’ll get lost in B,jump to E, or go on and write about four and three.. I’ll tell you a secret,
i have no idea what i’m writing myself.

I wonder what precedes, chaos or simplicity. We must go through the messy paths first to get to a simple conclusion? Or things are by nature simple and ours is to blame
for the deviation?

When someone shares their grief with you, you are able to systematically think of  a simple solution. Go on and throw a sentence doable from where you stand. But if it was your grief to mourn, you’d know how everything goes upside down after the first choc, and there is no practical solution in your head other than praying and promising to become a better person the second the storm passes. Things aren’t that simple now,are they? Storm passes, and promises are surely not kept, and things are back to seem simple.

Things are simple as long as they are not yours, or the minute they stop being yours. And every fool can figure that out by experience.

But only wise men can touch the simplicity of things when they are in the apex of complication. Lucky men they are.

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