the cyclical consciousness of living

every year, every month, every day, every hour, every second

we live, we evolve, we breathe, we reason

we explore, we walk, we scrutinize, we circumscribe

the soul of the purest figures, who have accompanied us in our lives

we understand, or rather, we try to understand the why of everything,

why are we here, why do we breathe?

why do we suffer? why do we have preferences?

every day we remember what we did the day before

each time though we are always cyclically redundant about the same things

why are we here? why do we breathe?

could it be that we've lived many lives? could it be that this is yet another life not grasped, not understood?

could it be that every time we return to earth, we have tasks, missions, always different

goals, dreams, desires, ambitions

I dream of becoming conscious — understanding the point of the present

like seeing the cycle of life from above, as if it were a vinyl record, searching in the grooves for the right song

to play in this precise moment.

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生きることの循環的意識