September 21, 2022
I’ve lived my life as a prelude to a mystery, and the only clues I have are the feelings that are evoked in my heart by what I know about it so far. I’ve wondered whether or not things in my life were ever what they appeared to be, and even today, I still have my own doubts. Maybe it was never supposed to happen, but it’s here now, and here I will stand, forevermore because of what I’ve created out of sheer will, determination, and love.
I woke like a creature of the waiting sun; another sleepless night. I climbed out of bed and stumbled into the living room, yawning. I retrieved my books from my desk and crawled back into bed, and began reading one of them. The words were like little drops of rain slipping in through the window screen. They mixed with the sounds outside until all I could hear was a watery echo inside my head.
I felt I was being pulled away from myself by the sentence I wanted to write down: I longed for it to be something precious. Waves of melancholy rise up in me again and wash over me, just when I think that they are finally gone for good. Still, these waves always return, each stronger than ever before. It’s as if they have no place else to go, being here inside of me. Yet, there must be some way to set them free. I often seek to relieve the pressure through the expression of words, ferrying strong emotions out to the great ocean of entropy that lies beyond in the realms of thoughts finally let go into the great beyond.
Still, there are other things about me that no one knows. These are the secrets that others might not be able to fully comprehend, and for now, they are only for me. I do not speak of them, as I know not only am I yet ready to reveal any of them, but these things know their own time to show themselves. They require more time before they can truly be born into expressible form. In the meanwhile, I continue traveling farther into myself than ever before, discovering more unknown mysteries within myself that lie in wait behind doors marked private.
The trials I continue to face on the daily each leave behind signposts, guiding me down a life-path bent on traveling on roads no one else has yet traveled. Yet, these future paths still only exist as potential futures, awaiting me to arrive so they can begin taking shape and in due time assume their actual forms.
Sometimes when I open my eyes at night and look out through my bedroom window up into those vast fields of cosmic radiation, with their billions upon billions of separate unconnected points like fractal branches extending into infinity. It is only when I’m lying in bed at night staring at this incredible miracle of universal harmony that I recognize my own relative insignificance; only then, do things truly become real in my mind.
The image used in this piece is titled A Brand New Sky To Hang The Stars Upon Tonight.