It is what it is.

In the latest episode of Sherlock there is this dialogue which both, Sherlock himself and Dr. John Watson have said to each other.

It’s to provide comfort to each other and the advice, to see and face the truth for what it really is.

I have been quite crossed ever since the episode, for what could these five letters possibly mean?

I think, I may finally have an answer.

What is a taboo, we don’t say the specifics about it. We know about the horrors that it holds, we have seen it. We all have been through it. In the darkest part of ourselves, just beneath the epidermis, we know of it’s origin.

Because it makes the blood in our veins cold, because it scares us to a state of shock, we choose not to ever say all that we know about it.

It is as huge as a castle, the most typical of castles. To make an estimate of it’s zenith, to fulfill the eye’s desire, we must look at the sky.                                       And in itself, it holds captive to so many breathtaking emotions.

However, the chemistry is solid. Literally, solid. Not any space in the castle for the emotions to move around.

In all that chaos inside the castle, you were there, right in the middle of it.

Instead of explaining all that to everyone and living it again for this time an audience to critic about, we counter their question to a what?

What? It asked, back.                                      Inside it, the bricks all crumbling to dust, because the what, scared it, to a used coal, in the calmness of the dry, the wind slowly whispering in its ear.

It is what it is.

It, is the body, it resembles, you.               Is, is the soul, that brings life to the sculpture that is, you.

Tabula Rasa; it is when you are living your life. When the Is and the it are both dependant on each other.

It is, like a sponge. Inside the sponge, resides the it.                                                 And the it, always desperate to be of use, always relying on friends, puts, itself through excruciating pain.

It shrinks. Hard pressed.

That is when you find your is, inside the castle, asking it’s-self, what?

That is when life happens.

In those moments, it is dies. To be born again.

Not alone.

What accompanies it, right behind, its very steps.

That is how it always remains, henceforth.

After all, it is what it is.

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