Luminosity

suppose, summer was evidently eurphoric. and the settlement of my body throughout the hazy months, the resting of my bones into sunny stained grass had diminished its frequency as snow eased onto the forecast. icicles became a phenomen of the asbsurd artistic nature of the outside world; the windows only held images of trees with no more leaves to play tag with the wind and some days it hailed, it rained, the sky cries and it’s all washing

away.

disturbed by the frequency of my habits and humanist behavioral patterns, to feel good. I sought out prayer times where my knees escaped their weight on my carpet. that’s the ultimate rain in the open ocean, the salvation, I swore, it sent the mental pressure spiraling into completion through more ideologies I constructed from books and built upon each other on my bedroom carpet and i have chosen to now keep the blinds more closed. we don’t have to go outside if outside isn’t nice. we don’t have to find home in running away from our figures that form a life in the house in a calm, downtown city. and we can drown softly in the quietness. and we can observe the stillness and sense of lovely loneliness that never faded even with every person of interest in our life. and we can drown in comfort in feeling good and shaming ourselves for seeking pleasure instead of mental labor, I sincerely send a request to all lines of humanity, just remember to recognize what true comfort means.

eventaully, every self-help book I had on my shelf contradicted another.

so that pastime bid boring, just ingesting philosophical concepts and every author swore they were more aligned with the truth of life than another. it made me crazy. to hear so many sentences of potential, to recognize no one could be more right or wrong than another. the conclusion does knock your sense of solidity down: there may be no truth to life at all.

evidently, everything became a question for me to analyze and I wanted to search so deep but in a state of connection that felt so good. I wanted to feel good physically and mentally and spiritually and socially and I’d chase happiness as if it ever needed chasing in the first place.

summer had left me temporarily and so I chose to seek the case of it’s existence in between the walls of my head. soon evenings will last past 5 pm but here until then, let’s smoke a little of this cannabis and let’s lay in bed and stare at the left wall or words in a book about spiritual enlightenment.

dear winter,

who would’ve guessed your absence was so relevant to my mental stability? still

steadily, shifts in my perception became perceived simply as perception and not mine and thoughts became more observed rather than thought and I can’t quite deny not one thing is stable here. not one fragment of human existence is qualified.

it’s not depressing though, no. change and the realizations of greater meanings of love, well it’s quite inevitable life would be depressing if there was no chance to see our whole reflection bloom and wither simultaneously and to question every question and to seek the season of summer because the sun felt like the embrace of the family you did not have but wanted to have.

I cannot surrender all my wants at this time yet, and I will keep intending to understand them so

ironically, winter may become a white flash of imagery the kind that breaks your spine open because it feels so good to watch and recognize ( with brutal patience), all moments are actually like this and our craving is to align with those pair of eyes so seeing really isn’t believing, it’s

being.