God help us

I guess I always felt squished by my mother. She let me shine more than others. She wanted me to shine more than anyone perhaps trying to make up for the light from within that was never let out. She still has a flame but that flame burns her from within because she never felt that that was truly loved and blessed and good. If you were to ask her she would come up with a perfect answer like that of what she wishes to believe and she has been habituated to believe should be heard. Through this false perfection is she able to live with herself and all the pain she has denied herself to feel.

Its funny because unlike other elements, fire's fragility is its strength much like the soul. My mother's soul is fragile, her emotions are as strong upon her as the waves of the ocean and differ that much in character and height. She has this irreproachable flame that is literally dying to burn bright. It is the same flame that ignites our soul for reasons we can't explain. It is the same flame that we are dying to have heard that rips the earth apart with its power. It is the same soul that ignites our interest in stories or love and war, of historical novels. Because this moment is a conjunction of past and future and the flame is the present.  Her light burns her in an opaque love that never fulfilled me as a child; never taught me honest appreciation of one as a spiritual entity but when we live our own truth and allow others to live their, our story together will be so much more powerful.

I think there is power in the past. With less resources you become more resourceful and careful in your expenditures thus making that which you do create that much more essential and meaningful to the texts that longs to be heard. The texts that in one moment is everything. god help us.

For example, where do all of these ideas come from? Are they mine? influenced by things i have seen or people i have read about? what matter is it? I am aware of just a few of those explanations.