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Something


malign

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Once I thought I was right,

but I wasn't.

Once I thought I was wrong,

but I was wrong about that too.

Then I thought I was part of something,

or maybe it was a part of me.

Then I thought it was a part of everybody,

but that everybody felt apart from it.

Then I saw a baby smile,

the moon in the daytime

and the stars at night,

and boy did I feel silly.

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Aw. :-)

I really meant that first part to mean that, after a while, the whole right/wrong thing seems ... wrong. It's all relative anyway: no two people see it exactly the same.

So I've gradually shifted to a stance of ... feeling my way. Feeling that I'm part of something, that we're all part of something, even when we don't feel that way.

And then feeling silly because all those words haven't really described it at all, but the experiences in the last stanza each contain a piece of the something. It's all around; it's literally everywhere; we just have to be open to hearing what it's telling us.

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