A part of me is always detached from my life,
from this world.
It is aware of everything,
it knows, but is unaffected.
As if this pain, is not mine
but someone else’s.
Or worse, it acts as if there is no pain.
It knows that I am crying
but doesn’t understand why.
It looks at these concepts.
Concepts of happiness, sadness, jealousy,
struggle and whatnot.
But these are just ideas for it.
Ideas that do not matter.
It believes that the fire I play with
can burn me, but not ‘it’.
It’s reality is different than mine.
This part of me just observes this life
as it passes by
and refuses to participate.
The only thing it does understand is that
We are here.
And how wonderful it is
to witness the beauty, this life is.
It only understands the beauty of the ruin,
our life is headed to.