Lately, I feel as if the universe has been sending me synchronicities at full volume as to the notion of risky behavior. During the mere moments, I decided to go full throttle, flip my life upside down, and choose a new direction. The direction that has nagged and gnawed and toyed at me, for as long as consciousness has been a tool. I’ve observed, I fled. I tried to escape every withering vein when it come to that fact that I was always running away from what I’ve wanted to do. The better part of my life, and many eras. She still chases me in the night. She consumes every lackluster moment of the day. Not so much a new direction, when you really look at it.
Long shot or long con. Whichever way you look at it.
I’m only running on hope and desire. Change accustomed to the tune of rage. Fed up. Anxieties plague.
If I am to escape humdrum; if I am merely going to be on the observer’s end of mundane plasticity and watered-down solutions – I suppose that winter will have to overcome to see the sun.
Even the dew melts every morning. The streams widen and the rivers navigate furiously, and even then, it all finds its way to the ocean. Everything had to go downhill just so life in itself may be nourished by a cycle hardly noticed. Until exasperated, by whichever medium and end of spectrum.
I suppose the true observer always has the high ground.
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