“The world has no existence whatsoever outside the human imagination. It’s all a ghost, and in antiquity was so recognized as a ghost, the whole blessed world we live in. It’s run by ghosts. We see what we see because these ghosts show it to us, ghosts of Moses and Christ and the Buddha, and Plato, and Descartes, and Rousseau and Jefferson and Lincoln, on and on and on. Isaac Newton is a very good ghost. One of the best. Your common sense is nothing more than the voices of thousands and thousands of these ghosts from the past. Ghosts and more ghosts. Ghosts trying to find their place among the living.”
“You cannot get through a single day without having an impact on the world around you. What you do makes a difference, and you have to decide what kind of difference you want to make.”
Lost souls searching for something,
a comforting contentment of another time,
when there were less questions and more smiles,
or so we imagine.
Lost souls searching for answers,
for a moment of peace amongst the bustle,
for some salvation hidden in the scattered dreams,
that once shone so bright.
Lost souls, lost souls.
Where will you go?
Lost souls, lost souls.
Seek until you find.
Happy New Year! Make it count.
Here’s Neil Gaiman to say it better than I ever could,
“I hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes. Because if you are making mistakes, then you are making new things, trying new things, learning, living, pushing yourself, changing yourself, changing your world. You’re doing things you’ve never done before, and more importantly, you’re Doing Something.”
I’m also hoping to finally finish his book, American Gods, this year, which has been gathering dust on the bookshelf for far too long.
Have a magical 2017.
It was like a wave,
dragging you down beneath the surface.
And in that second the world stopped.
Yet no one else saw a difference.
And things just continued as they always had.
It no longer mattered where the pain was coming from or who was providing it, for nothing was felt anymore. A great wave of numbness spread, sweeping so deep the joys were wiped clean along with the pain. All that remained was a great void, a blank slate, where nothing existed.
A dream of a person once known. A twisted imagination jolting you to another time. Waking, you fall into the realisation they are no more. And all that’s left are a few faded memories, matched with a wandering mind.