As you wish

Well, hello there. 

I can't say that it hasn't been a long time since we spoke. And I'm on the hunt to mend these broken fences I made, flailing about like a man possessed wielding sharp objects. 

There was a delightful rain that held my hand during the commute this morning. For a moment in time I'd regained my adoration for precipitation, and it changed the lens at which I viewed the rest of the day. 

"When was the last time you saw the milky way?" they asked ... 

And before I knew it, it had become so obvious why that question and the sad answer I provided meant so much to me. There's no denying that I hold myself to an often ridiculous standard--one which I'm not about to let up on--and if you string endless days together, it begins to peel back at the bark I've built up. 

Eventually, I begin to flounder. Or drown straight up. 

Light pollution, also known as photopollution, is the presence of anthropogenic light in the night environment. It is exacerbated by excessive, misdirected or obtrusive uses of light, but even carefully used light fundamentally alters natural conditions. As a major side-effect of urbanization, it is blamed for compromising health, disrupting ecosystems and spoiling aesthetic environments.
— Wikipedia

There's something stunning about starring up into the night sky to be trampled by a universe and more. It's oppressively impressive. Something that folks like me -- city dwellers -- don't get to experience all too often. 

I've accumulated a few choice spots in the city where the bleed of our statically charged, and technological lives obstructs my view of the stars just slightly. There are a couple of parks near me that surprisingly have no streetlights around them -- thinking about this now, it's most likely to keep people like me from loitering at night, oh how wrong they were. With little overhead light, it's a wondrous site. 

So when Wesley asked me when the last time I had seen the Milky Way ... I thought too long, but landed on my most recent visit to Grouse. But that answer didn't suffice and we made a quick verbal contract to soon venture out of the city to bask under the stars real soon. 

Be Still

That's when it hit me. The never-ending pressure to do something great. A fight against a clock that has no face, or tells no time. I thrive in it here. In the "real world". But my heart lives for the moments gazing up at the stars. 

I wish I could live under those stars

I did for the longest time, but sadly, all great things come to an end. 

I'm a big fan of living in those moments of unimaginable knowledge that I'm insignificant. 

Its a hell of a drug

It is. I spend every waking hour putting more and more pressure on myself to last forever. To be important. So those moments where I'm obviously not... they are kind to my heart. 

I ended up lost in those stars mere hours later. Sitting across from me. Wise and wide eyes, talking about things that I couldn't have imagined would run across my lips when I got ready this morning. 

Breathing the insanity you only ever recognize in yourself, protruding from another, fills your lungs with a type of oxygen that it just can't quite process. Your head gets light, and you swear that none of the sentences you're stringing together are coherent. 


Dread Pirate Roberts

As I walked, I became cognizant that the wind blowing the tail of my coat was not just for me, but for everyone that it crossed on it's way, and ahead of me. It was for all the failed attempts to make things work when neither of us had a reason to. It was for everyone that's ever told me they loved me, but was lying even just a little about it. For every time I stuck around longer than I was wanted, or talked far more than I should have. It was for picking up and leaving. Sailing from one failure to the next on a gust of hope and an ocean of prayers. 

Me and the wind have something in common. We're not quick to hide. Some (most) shy away from their fears, and their pains, but they are the only clothes I've ever known. Brandishing sharp teeth in a city of sheep. 

Until recently, that is, when I misplaced my uncanny ability to share without hesitation. But here I am. Sitting in the leading chair yes again, yelling into the corner of my apartment, wincing at the volume of my voice. 

"Stand up foryour right to feel your pain" - one of the most intriguing humans on earth

We hide behind zodiacs and parental flaws. We lean our pain on others' potential because it is human nature to avoid drawing circles around scars with mascara. 

No body wants to stare at your pain? 

Well, I do. 

And I think you'd be better off if you owned that pain. 

That's not even the start of it. You don't have to keep dressing in band-aids long after those wounds have healed. So show us some skin, let the weakness sink in, and be vulnerable like an actual human being.  

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