It’s good to breathe beneath the sky, naked to the cold mechanics of the stars. While thoughts project outward, with hunters pose, mounting me like so many injustices before. I understand that the heavens are nothing more, a mechanical chaos of casual, brute enmity on which we rigidly drape our hopes and fears. I understand my solitude. My distance. But not myself. Or anything else I feel, that which brushes up against me, or what I push against, blindly in this blighted brevity – as blindly as all that is not myself pushes back at me. I weave entire worlds, sigh by sigh.…a succession of frail, foolish flicker flashed follies in the drawn out dull heave of eternity. I too am learning, injury by injury, conquest after conquest, my own sense of dignity. It’s all I have, my only weapon for smashing through these dying walls of the world. So I synchronize my movement and thoughts to the moonlight, or labor to shift the foundations of light with my heaped-up howls of rage. Something is bound to give rise from this! I cannot believe such monstrous energies of grief can lead to nothing!
Posted on: Sun, 15 Dec 2013 21:03:47 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015