There’s a death waiting in each of us and it journey’s everyday, every moment with us down the winding road, or roads we call life. As a gentle seed in fresh soil it germinates and roots, some never know it, others watch it grow and spread as ivy over a wall. It spreads through the delicate body, creeping and growing to its full bloom. No, not always, for others go on in everyday with their greedy and selfish plans, backbiting, walking over, and kicking down. But this death it does not rest regardless of what one may think, it is there all the while, watching and waiting. It waits patiently, and when the moment is right the seed will split and shatter a person into a million pieces. Taking with it all your precious living moments, the ones that you have been taking for granted or twisting to every excuse. But this, or but that, what if, or maybe, there was always a reason to never be happy with where you are. Something was always worth more than just living; that shiny car, fancy home, reputation, fame, money, and lovers; all of it designed just for the purpose of you dying.

How many decent moments can one recall in their life, off the top of their head. Perhaps many, but how many indecent moments can they reflect upon? Most likely many, many more, and after that reflection can they look back upon their decent ones and honestly say there was no personal motivation behind it. Even if you give a homeless person a bottle of water or a cheeseburger and then go brag to your friends about how good you are in giving; that precious act of giving itself is lost to your greedy desire to be recognized as kind. Don’t be hard on yourself, this is what we all do, all the time, our hearts say to do good, our mind says to go about it like this, and our ego says this will look good to others and when you tell your friends they will think highly of you. Worry not dear friend, for there are few to none who can give kindness from the heart, and simply let it go; this is the purest kindness people have, and this is the very kindness we all trample to make ourselves look good.

Davin shakes his head with a laugh, “Madness,” he says to himself, “perfect madness.”


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