Dashed to pieces against the shores of an arrogant sublimity parading itself down the vaulted corridors of my inner palace; only in my mind, only in thoughts was my reason on firm ground; were such thoughts to venture from the premises and step out into the gilded world, they would find themselves stranded, and what’s worse for a mind mired in self adulation (as all minds are), completely worthless.

–

She was gone now, but his memories were so painfully vivid; they conjured up her ghost around the buildings, along the pathways and sidewalks, in the forest, and on the hills across the fields.

The path went by her room, the path he had to walk everyday to get to town. He walked the path daily and every time he approached her building his heart would pound, his stomach would drop, and his eyes would try and shoot out from their sockets toward its direction. He always looked, and it always made him feel, and the feeling always made him think, and his thoughts always made him wonder, and his wonder always made him afraid, afraid he had lost her forever, and with it, the challenge of feeling love at its extreme limits became a delicate test of teetering on the brink of sanity, unsure of whether the disintegration of his mind taking place, was at heart, some divine and cleansing purgation, or the effect of some disastrous misfortune to his psyche; or both.

–

I could feel my inner adversary warning me through eyes of blotted fire, reminding me of the consequences of failure, wielding guilt – that conjoined bastard twin of the self, congealed to one’s better half and cutting through like a scythe across my gut, the sound of which whispered sounds of the futility in triumph, slicing through my bowels; how any success would never be enough. And yet, to give up – give up what?

–

If only it wasn’t such a struggle to give one’s feelings a home, somewhere inside. Feelings should be welcomed into one’s life to live comfortably along side one’s self instead of being treated like some flat mate reluctantly allowed to live with you for the sake of cheaper rent.

–

All my reasons, my fool-proofed arguments, and land-locked excuses; all my hardness; my determination; all my grit; all was shattered upon seeing her again; from one glance; one look and my gut swelled with desire, the way the sky swells with light from the sun as it makes it’s first nod above the horizon. How does a forest fire begin from a spark? It seems impossible, does it not? but then it happens.

–

He had chanced to utter things that he instantly regretted, that he knew he never meant, words that merely spoke themselves – that is language sometimes.

He had seen her eyes close. He saw she had lost herself in a possibility, a possibility his words had only suggested, but not foretold: that he might get to a point where he could not stand her; something he immediately said would never happen. But the possibility had been spoken, and people live in possibility.

–

Just this once, give up all your memories and embrace the sensation of the ever present void, that “blank check” of creation, dashing itself upon the shores of discernment, not as a conqueror, but as an all-pervading “what will be,” a kind of sempiternal foundation to which an eternity of constructions may lay themselves upon. It does justice to life much as you believe the opposite; if you could but draw reality from the figure of your imagination.