Moments and hours spent within the hands of more tragic memories and daydreams have begun to make me feel a sense of comfort in being buried underneath, six feet under the chaos and convulsions of this reality that I had once been bound to, but now am free to depart, yet so drawn I am to the idea of salvation, so much so that is has begun to create a sort of anchor that keeps me bound, keeps my eyes peeled and my mind wondering in it’s drifting state – on what will follow. There is poison in this air that I breathe, and chemicals in this water that I take in, for this endless rain that awaits me seeks to pour out like sorrow, flooding these soils; it’s misery in essence, likely to give rise to something it never truly intended.
Because we who remain here underneath only know of the darkness and the wonders that it brings; stories and tales I’ve dreamed of darkest nights under dimmer lights where the moon beams bring about our greatest potential and the seemingly infinite stars that light the way like a path across the sky, leading us to a darker place, a void where everything and nothing collapse into a stirring state of stillness. Things like these I’ve dreamed, and as those much higher than I like fates witness these thoughts flood and swim throughout my shattered and fading mind – they whisk away what sense I had gained and force me to breathe out. To breathe out the hopes and the dreams of what I am to become, to leave all ambitions and expectations at the door, and to breathe in all over again – to let in the fruitions of fates that are soon to reside face to face with me, to let in all that I had once feared and ran from for now those things will be all that there ever will be, to let in the state of letting go as it now grips much tighter like a hold onto me; keeping me bound to the soil of the earth as the rain pours down, like a summoning storm-drain, onto me.
