What is a soul? Does everyone have one? Do i have one? How about you, do you have one? can you feel it? can it hurt you? can you give it away to someone else? can you just get rid of it? so many questions.
Let’s speak for a moment as if everyone did have a soul, the driving life force behind everything that you are and are passionate about.
I say that i leave my heart and soul on the dance floor every time i dance. Is your soul just where your passion comes from?
Is is maybe the voice inside your head that tells you whether what you are doing is right or wrong? is that the part of you that leaves when you die? that little voice? is that the part of you that floats around the room during an “out of body experience?” or when people get into accidents and have brain damage and can no longer communicate as functioning individuals, i know part of it is the fact that they are in fact BRAIN DAMAGED, but did their soul leave? how about the catatonic? they are like blank sheets of paper. that would bring up the question, “does the soul make you…you?” i don’t know.
can you let your soul out? when you harm yourself, are you also cutting little pieces of your soul away? or do you think that it is already gone by this point??
hmph. now i have a head ache internet. and i still don’t understand, but thanks for being here when i just need to shut up and type.
I grew up in Riverside, CA. yup sunny California. You know, no where near any movie stars and about 45 (in traffic) from the beach. I grew up, i don’t want to say spoiled, buuuuuuuuut SPOILED. I got everything i wanted, generally, when i wanted it. I wasn’t the brat though, i never threw a fit if the answer was “no” at the start. I was upper middle class. my neighborhood was filled with business owners, teachers, retired Vietnam vets, electricians, and families that where on well fare.
we were exactly the same, all of us kids would play together, walk to the movies, Starbucks, the park, even just K-Mart. It was beautiful as it is in Cali. Of course as we got older we realized that there was a difference in class when we wanted to go out and do things when we got older. some of us could just take a trip to LA or go to a concert while others had to stay home because they didn’t have the money.
It was a real privilege to grow up in such a diverse neighborhood in such a great city, i don’t look down on those who grew up with less than me and i don’t resent those who had more.
I love my neighborhood, I love my city, and I love my state.
Click here for the prompt that this post is in response to.
That always the hardest part isn’t it??? Starting, actually leaving the starting gate. Taking that first step to something new. being something new. Its not easy.
Starting something new is the most challenging thing there is, just ask a homeless man or woman in your area. I doubt that their answer will be that they wanted to end up there, standing at a stoplight waiting for a kind soul to give them a small hand out just to get a snack. NO! starting from scratch is hard, and they are either still working on it, or they’ve given up.
Well here i am saying that i am not giving up, i am done “working” on getting started, I AM STARTING. and i am talking.