each one of us has a different life story.
an open-book novel,
or pieces of horcruxes scattered everywhere,
or a worn-out chestbox from the world it is hidden.
different reasons why we do things
or not do things.
bright memorable days. deep dark secrets
only for us to keep.
and, fortunately and unfortunately,
there’s many more stories to come.

different layers. different volumes.
shallow as a stream. deep as an ocean.
everyone has a different life story
infinity does not converge to one.
every one is on a journey
of building on this life story.
finding the answer.
looking for the character.
questioning the meaning.
searching for the soul.
who is that person on the mirror?
I wonder how many times you need to search for it to be found.
I wonder if it can even ever be found.
Is it really meant to be found?
and when you find it, is it really found?
or do you constantly search for it………


One thought on “soulsearching.

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