Tuesday, February 25, 2014

from 30,000 feet


So here, we go down. We spiral. A little too much taste of one flavor creates an unbalanced mind. Rather than reactant, let's become proactive. Let's reacquaint ourselves with the many pots in which your hands caress. What is the warmth? The texture and the temperance? Are there any new cracks to report? Discolorations?


See i ought to feel guilty for the indulgence. But thankfully, i have a few hours here left to my own disconnected devices, for which i may define a few resolutions, resolutions about being less resolute, if you can imagine. I have proceeded to do as i saw fit. I explored, i played, i selfishly relished and revelled, and was careful to care for a few little in betweens in the meantime. I am not the age of the life i live, and despite my incessent dedication to pretending i am, i will continue to cheerfully profess my youth when it suits.


I need not make any immense decisions or rationales, in fact, i really shouldn't during this time of imbalance. Why not breathe. Why not rest your mind. Why not dwell and let mind wander. Talk out loud, ask for council. Take stock of your emotions, write them down even. But don't pound your gavelling fist onto the wood and demand rushing change on the behalf that you disliked that one moment, of which, was massed with too much of something, or not enough of another. Instead determine a route in which your ingredients are balanced in proper.

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