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Life feels itself


Life feels itself. I didn't understand this line when I first heard it. I've thought this line a bit since I've first heard. I think I may have a slight grasp on the idea.

Just as much as I can claim to feel life, life feels itself. It is aware, in sense. Life is alive. Life breathes and moves and thinks just as I do. It is unique as I. It has it's own desires and dislikes, it's own personality so to speak. It loves. And it feels pain. This life can hurt. But this life has purpose, a flow, a rhyme and reason like the tide. It knows what's important; what's significant. It is ever moving like a creature on to itself.

I must care for my life. I must be cognizant of what it desires for me. I must be aware of how life feels because life feels itself. But it also feels me.

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