Into the Hills

Axis

Infinity was premeditated, the smooth curve of the figure eight, a finger trace from forever. One two, one two. I can feel this winter on my lips, in the intake of breath as I let it come over me. It's got a taste of clarity I can't really place. It's a new feeling, a winter of cleansing and rebirth. I am a just a baby in this world, watching in wonder at everything that simply...is. Like stepping out of a hot shower, and watching the steam swirl and flow out of my open window and into the cold outside. High pressure to low pressure. I suppose I've reached an age where I'm able to truly recognize and appreciate what is happening around me without overwhelming bitterness and judgement. Yes I have failed, yes I have struggled. Yes I have lost, yes I have loved. Loved with every atom of my existence, and watched it dissipate, like a puff of smoke into the air.  Yes I have lived, quite the little life in my young years, and inside I know I am wiser than most. Age is the weight you wear around your neck, and it pulls you down to the ground, fallen, at the mercy of gravity. But today gravity has mercy on me, I am just born and I breathe this cold air into my lungs knowing how it runs through me, into my blood, and then out of me. I am an amazing thing today, that I have survived this moment and all the rest. The space between my point of birth and my current state can be divided countlessly, and today I know I have survived infinity. And if I am infinitely old, I'm no older than I was when I first begun. One two, one two.

Mood Piece

Noticings

Attachment. It's one of humanity's greatest inclinations, sometimes the least obvious and perhaps most feared of our natural affections. Attachment is a dangerous thing, its the invisible, unscented noxious gas that fills a room quietly and steadily, and no one going about their daily business ever notices its arrival. Only its departure. Attachment is the well-meaning friend with exclusively good intentions, the survival strategy that has persisted through the ages, it's the warm and sunny with a chance of rain, when most people choose not to take their umbrella. The catch to attachment lies in it's intangibility. It takes up no space, and leaves no mark, but when it's gone, you notice your cup was empty to begin with.

Rose colored glasses

I'm not really sure if its a game I'm playing with you, or only with myself, but I do this thing where I pretend I've known you forever, and all of a sudden you become much easier to talk to. But I have to admit it's a rough game, tampering with the natural progression of things like that. Blurring the lines here makes it easier to feel something for you, like a transference of feelings, and suddenly, quite dangerously, I may be feeling something towards you that doesn't belong to you at all. Something that belongs to someone far away, someone who no longer is. That's the worry in wearing rose colored glasses, you don't see the haze even when you've put it there.

Minotaur

Like a monster who turns his wild eyes your way, bares his teeth and rattles his cage, this shift is a strange one. It screams a throaty yell before in jumps in the ring, beating its chest and daring you to join. This shift is my Minotaur, following me around in the maze, getting ever closer to the inevitable outcome. And I stepped into the ring, knowing what I know, I stepped in ready for the blows.

Exploring.