writing before the lotus gets to me (again)
Moments of despair and panic quietly settle into familiar coldness and apathy toward the world. That is, until the smallest disturbance fractures this false peace, allowing the fragile flame of fury to rise once more and burn everything in its path: routine, communication, connections, hobbies, etc. Yet this, too, shall die (as all things do) after days and nights of frustrated tears. At the end, you will find the answer to your problems—not a solution, but a revelation that changes how you see the problem forever.
But when I open my old, dusty journal to record this life-altering discovery, the same answer looks back at me from all the ink-smudged, yellowed pages. I have found the answer before, only to lose it again through my own forgetfulness. The sleepless nights, the enigmatic texts, the long phone calls. “But I thought I was getting further from who I once was!!!!”
Experiencing the death of the old self is something heroes must endure to move forward. So proud was I to be far down the road of wisdom, not knowing it to be a circle—a road leading back to myself again and again. Back to the end and the start, memories erased, dancing and dancing...
