i learned young, if you want to find something, you’ve got to stop looking for it. they are after all lost things. they reappear often when you least expect them to, when you least need them to.
this applies for everything. the law of attraction is fucking weird. the more we think of something, the more it flees from within our reach or comes at us in high velocities — we begin to start losing ourselves.
just like, disappearing is never a solution: the more you want to vanish, the larger the aptitude is for the demons to find us.
it’s the basic law of attraction: if you want to run from something — it will always catch up, and find it’s way back to you. it will seep into the tiny crevices of your soul’s opening. you can run, you can jump on trains, change your appearance, burn your identification, and take a plane ride out of town but what you want to erase is etched into you. it is already in your bloodstream, it is the fear laced into your thoughts.
just like, lost keys have a way of reappearing a few days later — but when you’re busy cursing God and running late to that meeting, you don’t think “i should stop looking” because you’re convinced you will find them — except you don’t. you give in to defeat and walk to that meeting instead, your entire day a mess. when you misplace your favourite piece of jewelry, isn’t it often you’ll find it, in some forgotten place somewhere?
it’s the same thing with people. with love. when you let someone go, either they come back and find you, when you’ve given up on them. rarely we find them ourselves. they can be categorized as lost things, especially when you spot them sitting in the corner of your favourite coffee shop, reading your favourite copy of Neruda poems. just then, your heart skips a beat, the blood rushes to your head. do you run to them and scream “i found you” or keep standing there — they sense your energy and look up, smiling a smile that pulses right through you.
is this chance? fate? or are all lost things just meant to be found.
this applies for everything. the law of attraction is fucking weird. the more we think of something, the more it flees from within our reach or comes at us in high velocities — we begin to start losing ourselves.
just like, disappearing is never a solution: the more you want to vanish, the larger the aptitude is for the demons to find us.
it’s the basic law of attraction: if you want to run from something — it will always catch up, and find it’s way back to you. it will seep into the tiny crevices of your soul’s opening. you can run, you can jump on trains, change your appearance, burn your identification, and take a plane ride out of town but what you want to erase is etched into you. it is already in your bloodstream, it is the fear laced into your thoughts.
just like, lost keys have a way of reappearing a few days later — but when you’re busy cursing God and running late to that meeting, you don’t think “i should stop looking” because you’re convinced you will find them — except you don’t. you give in to defeat and walk to that meeting instead, your entire day a mess. when you misplace your favourite piece of jewelry, isn’t it often you’ll find it, in some forgotten place somewhere?
it’s the same thing with people. with love. when you let someone go, either they come back and find you, when you’ve given up on them. rarely we find them ourselves. they can be categorized as lost things, especially when you spot them sitting in the corner of your favourite coffee shop, reading your favourite copy of Neruda poems. just then, your heart skips a beat, the blood rushes to your head. do you run to them and scream “i found you” or keep standing there — they sense your energy and look up, smiling a smile that pulses right through you.
is this chance? fate? or are all lost things just meant to be found.
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