Strange Days
An in between spot, with the other side in mist. Packing up a familiar life, making the jump trusting that there is another side for a landing. Growing new wings, questioning what is real in the here and now for when the time comes for the jump back.
Desperately fighting to hope for nothing, while dreaming of everything. Growing, hurting, dancing, dreaming. The toughest journeys are made in solitude, with someone else just as lone holding breath hoping to exhale again, else by force go through rebirth into a new solitude. Imitosis. We’re all basically all alone.
Posted in Life by Arthur Brash at August 20th, 2009.
The healthy being craves an occasional wildness, a jolt from normality, a sharpening of the edge of appetite, his own little festival of the Saturnalia, a brief excursion from his way of life. (Robert MacIver)