The Only Difference Between A Monster And A Hero Is Motive

Many times people treat enlightenment like a concrete state. Like once they reach it they are above the world, impervious to it. Unaffected by change and time.

But its quite the opposite. Those who are truly in tune with the earth find that change us the only constant. They move with the tide. Sway with the breeze. Grow with the trees.

To reach your most natural state is to be in tune with what is inside you as you are with what is around you. To cut away your earthly ties only brings you farther from the mother.

To be connected with the ever raging fire of your soul is as important as being swept away in the tides of time. Always present, ever in motion.

They told us to aim for the stars, that even our failures would be rich.

They didn't tell us that in exchange our victories would feel cheap and lifeless.

I have to fail to feel.

You called me Atlas and pressed the weight down on my shoulders.

Time has passed but I'm not better, just older.

I don't consider myself particularly religious.

But I think I might understand why rural areas are so full of superstition.

Not out of an antiquated idea of ignorance.

But because if you've ever seen dawn bleed red into the dying breath of a bright white night, then you'd know God too.

The wall

I've dug my fingers in the slated spaces between bones. Clawing and dragging my way up this jagged wall. Knees braced against bleached and broken fragments. Stained red where they've nicked my skin.

Silent is the cursed air. Like the very sound of my voice may break in front of me. Cutting even deeper than the bits of skelton beneath my palms. Than the pale splinters lodged under my nails.

I see nothing above or below, only the wall stretches endless anchoring me in it's ancient death.

I think too much about the stars

I was never meant to have a body.

My tethered little pet.

So much responsibility to look after.

So much washing and clothing and tucking away.

I was never meant to rot so slowly.

From diseases, I will never know.

So much tending to my body needs.

So much aching and soothing and drugging away.

I was never meant to hold it's hand.

Like a mother holds a child.

So much guarding it needs.

So much hiding and cherishing and giving away.

I was never meant to have a body.

Long ago I accepted that my mind would always outrun my body. It would be an exhausting existence but one I could ultimately cope with. I spent all of my youth studying for it, how to live with my own mind. How to make room for it in my life. I looked it in its wild eyes as it promised it would never be tamed. And that was fine. I swallowed my dread determined to live anyways. To perservere.

I was unprepared for my body to start lagging further behind. I should still be young. Barely an adult. But my body is degrading around me nonetheless My joints creak and ache, my muscles fall slack and weak. I can't carry the weight I could before. I cannot hold a knife correctly to cut my vegetables, I can't even muser up enough strength to stand throughout the day. Always having to stop and catch my breath.

My mind is only getting faster and more unruly as it grows but my body is quickly becoming infirm. I worry the two halves of my existence will pull me apart refusing to live together.

What will become of me when I am abandoned by both?

No bolder words are ever spoken than from the mouth of a dying man

Everything about you scares me; I guess that's why I'm here.