In life, we all have choices. We all have demands. We all have problems. We all have secrets. We all have dreams. We all have fears. We all have emotion. We all have curiosity. We all senses. We all have skills. We all have flaws. We all have power. What would happen to us, if we lost all of these things? All of the things that make us who we are? Who we were meant to be? Would we lose ourselves, and hide like cowards, ashamed of who we are? Would we accept the empty shell, of our new found lives? We'll never know. In life, all of these things can never cease to exist, for as long as we exist. That begs the question, what if we don't exist? Well, the answer is simple. One of us has to exist, in order to know that we all have become extinct. But as usual, I'm rambling. And it seems using improper grammar! I was always taught to never start a sentence with a conjunction. Rules are meant to be broken, right? Without rules, we wouldn't have any fun, now would we? On to the point! ------> You can try to deny it. Say you never had one. You never believed in one. But(there it is again) we all know it, and we all have that feeling that we are being watched. Protected. Examined. Let's say, a man loses his balance, at a near by train station. He almost falls into oncoming traffic! Of course, by traffic, I mean a huge ass train. But(once again) you see, he does not fall. He does not die. He is saved. To him, he regains his balance, and is back on solid ground, with both his two feet, and twenty toes! Little does he know, with what little brain he has. He did not do this himself. He felt it in him that there was someone there with him, but when he looks around, all he sees are the bystanders who did nothing.There is much the eye sees, but even more that is never truly processed with the brain. Now, before I continue, I must be hypocritical. I don't believe in God. I don't believe that one man created the universes, and the burning balls of gas, nor the huge life formed infested planets. Yet, I do believe in the super natural. Ghosts. Entities. More so, the reason for all of this, Guardians. Sent here to protect those in danger! Something I truly believe in. If life forms so small you need a microscope to see them can exist, why can't an entity? Why can't one, pick a subject, and take control. Without them truly knowing what has happened to them? And(I'm not too well with rules) just simply, be at the right place, at the right time? Become Heroes. Become Guardians. You see, they just don't take a body, and use it right then and there. They take it when it's right. When it's young. They take that body, and they mold it. They shape it the way they feel fit. Not for small errands, no. For one, major, special... purpose. They treat the body, and it's mind, like... Clay. They create a world for this body. They create a personality. They give it the feelings necessary for it's purpose. They give it an idea. And(blek) it grows. Until, that being becomes the guardian needed to protect. To help. To save. To be at the right place, at the right time. To serve your purpose. It happens all around us! Every day! After your big purpose is served, they leave. You go on with your life, and what it would have been. Finally, the Clay is molded, and you become... You. The year is 1992, and on this blizzard infested day, a guardian is born. Eight years later, and he is chosen. He stands outside from his normal life. Surrounded by the world. He looks up at the blue sky. He looks at the green grass. The brown trees. The grey rocks. He feels the wind.He feels as if it is pulling him. Taking him somewhere. He feels it picking up. The picture turns red, orange, yellow. All together. His face is one with fire. Yet, his body is untouched. He places his hands the stones that are placed in a circle, created to contain. He pushes himself out. He blacks out shortly. When he wakes, it has only been minutes, and he is in a kitchen. His family is pulling his hand under the faucet. He had burned his right index finger. After the incident, he wonders to himself: How is this possible? "I went head first. I remember. I should be dead." He looks up to the sky. Curious. This moment in time. Was the moment he was saved. He was chosen. Dead, and yet, brought back, so he may live on, and some day, repay his debt. Save a life. Become a guardian. Become a hero. But for now... He is nothing... But Clay...
LISTEN TO THE SONG I LISTENED TO WHILE WRITING THIS! Serenata by Atomic Mix Lab
