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There I was at the door of someone’s apartment with payback and feelings of being unjustly treated, I summoned the inhabitant to the door.

A man opened and I, with my youngest son in tow, gave the man who is now standing in the doorway, an extended nonverbal, non-gestured gaze.

My search for redress was at its climax.

Wait here! I said to my son gesturing that I must enter alone. He was more adamant than I, we both entered.

The door closed behind us and looking back I noticed the man I came to see, the person whom would relief my burden of the unfair treatment I had to endure, had separated himself from me with the help of the now closed door.

He is no longer in his own apartment.

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What might the story of one a grain of sand imprint upon us?

I asked this myself this question in previous writings and couldn’t stop myself from going deeper into thoughts that everything has a purpose, no matter how minuscule.


From the beginning of time, according to agreed upon creation theories, our planet was created from celestial gas that was then fused, forming a hot molten globe.

That suggests there was no sand at that time, but instead came into existence as a raw evidence of the pressures of time itself and forces Mother Nature eventually, enforced upon herself.

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Its the first time pen and notepad accompanies me to the sauna.

Will it be different from my voice recorder, which I also fear will succumb to the 120-degree Celsius dry heat?

The lighting is poor, it’s late and it’s my second time today.

It’s partially guilt that brought me back to the gym and spa, a 220-gram bag of m&m’s to be exact, and I’m hoping to sweat some of it away.

Pages curl, and stiffen, at the same time. The ink tracings from my writing breaks and ever so often prompting me to give the pen a good shake.

I continue writing…

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It’s not a day most would consider beautiful.

The sun is unable to display its brilliance,

and the sea seems to be busy at work dragging more and more sand from the beach with its increasing reach.

Beauty can be described in many different ways.

One for each time you blink, for everytime your eyes shifts, when sound waves alter, when your point of focus is invited.

With every stroke of natures brush, a fountain of beauty to assimilate, a piece of ourselves gained.

I don’t feel like something is missing, yet the question is asked. What am I missing?

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The purpose of existence is you.

The purpose of existence is a balance between what you give and of that you take.

The purpose of existence is meaningful relationships without attachment.

Bonds formed from sincerity, an open heart, and mind, free from judgment and without expectations of gain.

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I awake to consciousness. I awake to an existence from which I desire to evolve, to step into my potential.

As present realities slip into yesterday’s, leaving not only remembrances of wants unmet, maturity through experience, lessons learned and insights into one’s own heart and mind gained.

Once closed, now open to love.

Curious about life I leap, not alone, towards something greater, towards the coming present realities of tomorrow, which I myself create.

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