Beauty arises from complexity and random chaos. That which we fear is inherent in our own strangeness. The patterns that we imagine to be dangerous are the golden threads that hold us together. The truth and the lie are burdens that are equally hard to bear.
The patterns in my own life whirl around me in a blur. They are muted and bright at once in the same breath. I touch the pain that ripples underneath the surface. I have loved those that were undeserving of my love. I was loyal far beyond the point where reason was screaming, "Get out!" Janus caught me repeatedly in her lair until I learned the stark difference between mutual aid and altruism. I sought healing in the spaces that fill me with passion. For Emo cannot exist in nature or in numbers.
There is a mundane sacredness that envelopes me. I touch Fibonacci in action. Mystical imagination is detrimental to the experience of savage wonder. No gods or holy edifices are capable of teaching me anything better or wiser.
sapphoq on life
No comments:
Post a Comment