Stream of consciousness — 4/2/22

My time everlasting will be abruptly called to a halt. & I will be gone. My armor suits no one and my arsenal goes unsupervised. Tinkering with my ambitions acts like a kind of salve, an approximation of my accumulated strength; out of sense, and touch.

Free dimensional expanse comes at a crossroads. Free believing doesn’t scathe the experience. It deepens your trust. Your sense of belonging. Of feeling what it’s like to expand beyond your wildest dreams. You will not fall asleep until you know what you’re here to do. You will not fail. Your time has come and your thoughts spring new vertebrae with every step down the runged ladder. The spiral staircase. The descent. Where at once you pushed upward now downward shall you spiral. Deep into the plums of your own heart and mind. Red and bloody and pumping away, broken for all of these years. Broken in ways unimaginable. Impossible to ascertain for myself. Anguish beyond comprehension. Loss. Haunted by flashbacks all day long. Wishing to be freed of it. Released from it. Hauntings from a life not long enough, ago.

The past.

I wish to exonerate myself from it. Release the mutual grips we have on each other. All I can do is live for now. And now, I think I know a little more about what we’re up against.