Sounds carry a weight that is much more heavy these day’s. The density of this new and foreign since of reality, even now, still reverberates throughout all of this vessel – all that has become of what once was, and what is now no more. The piece of peace that I had once cast my die in has begun to lead to a death even more forthcoming and shimmering than the one that I have longed for since I can even remember. So much so, even now rides on such longings and aspirations; many of which are in nothing more but the hands of fates. Fates that have now long since been bestowed and still unravel during these very strange moments in existence.
But is this truly existence? I can’t help but wonder. For upon the crumbling world and reality from before has given birth to something seemingly deformed and strange – it all feels so artificial, so fake, in a way. Time now is nothing like the time that I once knew, and seasons now are nothing like the seasons that once used to past. For while the death of one Advent has brought the end to many cycles, there are still many that in which remained – many that even now yearn to be brought to an end.
It is the existence of these very cycles which now leads me down this descent that I had always known was soon to come. One in which that will come with the strapping of this mask, and the most painful and excruciating evolutions that I may ever come to know. A right of passage that no matter which direction I spiral, will bring me ever-closer back down to where I started – to bring me ever closer to the truth and the root of all decisions that I’ve made.
