I yearn to live and love and burn, and yet so much of my time is spent faking and forgetting, faking and forgetting I carry out my disbelief with uninspired hands, my eyes shut, my emotions dulled, my spirit numb. In times like these I am in desperate need of truth to come to me like a blinding light, like a splinter in my soul, reminding me of the brevity of my time here on earth.
Interpretation
The quote reflects a struggle with authenticity and the longing for genuine experiences amidst superficiality.
In this quote, Jon Foreman expresses a deep yearning for a life filled with true love and passion, contrasting it with the dullness of everyday existence where he feels he is merely going through the motions. He reveals a conflict between the desire to feel intensely and the reality of living in a state of numbness and forgetfulness. There’s a poignant realization that he seeks truth and a deeper connection to life, which he hopes will awaken his spirit and remind him of the fleeting nature of existence.
In practice
In a discussion about finding purpose in life, this quote can inspire others to seek authenticity.
Darkness cannot cast out darkness. You need a light for that. Fear cannot cast out fear. You're gonna need hope for that death warrants more death. But I believe life wants more life and I'm convinced that the greatest weapon we've got is LOVE! And maybe, in a world full of fighters, in a world imploding with hate, maybe to be a lover, you gotta be a fighter. Maybe that's the biggest fight, the only fight worth fighting, the fight you're gonna be in for the rest of your life.
I don’t think we can solve the outside problems until we solve the ones within.
Male domination is so rooted in our collective unconscious that we no longer even see it.
A great civilization is not conquered from without, until it has destroyed itself from within. The essential causes of Rome's decline lay in her people, her morals, her class struggle, her failing trade, her bureaucratic despotism, her stifling taxes, her consuming wars.
All of the true things I am about to tell you are shameless lies.
It was the time of year, the time of day, for a small insistent sadness to pass into the texture of things. Dusk, silence, iron chill. Something lonely in the bone.
How small life is here and how big nothingness. The sky, tired of light, has given everything to the snow. The two trees bow their heads to each other. Clouds cross the world’s silence in a circle dance
It's been months since I last wrote. I've lived in a state of mental slumber, leading the life of someone else. I've felt, very often, a vicarious happiness. I haven't existed. I've been someone else. I've lived without thinking.
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