Every turn on the highway reminded me of somewhere else I've been. A patch of ground was New Jersey. A mountain was Ireland. It all spun together into an amalgam of experiences I've had, and all the while I was going somewhere entirely new. Shifting my reality to something purely my own. Leaving this town and everything else behind. Letting things go.
Nothing feels quite real anymore, and it's not a bad thing. Alot of times I feel like I am dreaming, and somehow I kind of don't mind it. It almost feels like the world is telling the truth, and it was all a dream anyway, before we all were cracked into pieces on the aching ground. I don't feel alone in my despair, everyone has it now; a taste of that sinking feeling you get when you can't see a way out of the swamp. Now we're all in it together, trudging through the landscape.
There is undeniable beauty in this year, and tenderness.
The cold blew in sometime last week, and I pulled out sweaters and stocked up on warm things. I guess it is time for nesting.
I literally can't see into more than a day ahead, since I have been forced to take each one of them in individually without any expectation.
I know I am in love. With my quiet space. With beautiful people I've come to know. With my artwork and with the knowledge that I get tomorrow to try again. With feeling alive and sad and scared and full of joy all at the same time. I believe in all the goodness I've always aspired to cultivate in myself and my environment, and I believe in the absolute goodness of people and their ability to survive and always become better.
I have so many dreams and things I want to do.
Its all incubating and I sit here and wait, for clarity.
Until then I live in a fog of visions.
I dreamwalk in real time and follow trails of animal paws, leading me through the dark forest. Into whatever comes next.
My only vow; to love authentically until I die.
This is my promise.