"They sicken of the calm, who know the storm."
Few lessons have existed as vibrantly and intensely in the past. Few lessons have knocked me on my ass and then extended a hand to assure me that the fall will not be my demise. This lesson, a lesson that countless, dedicated, educated individuals poured over. A different rate of speech? A different concept on education in general? All things have been considered. All things, except, the absence of teaching, that is. The absence of instruction, of calculated phrases in a meek attempt to convey the need for calm. The need for letting go.
The frenzy of a mind on fire. The overwhelming urge to get up and busy myself with anything as to not be still. Escaping like the laundry thrown on the lawn during a pissing match. The frenzy has flown the coop. Alerting the masses will do no good because the gasoline poured and the match lit on thinking with needless frenzy.
Three weeks. I'd say I'm a damn quick pupil and for that, I will reward myself with a sunset soon. An anchor, to this place. Music. Conversations both bullshit and core shaking. Laughter. Remembering that I put the world on my shoulders and attempted, at best, to rotate a few times throughout a day. Strangely enough, the world was not placed there with expectations from anyone but this one. The globe has crashed and shattered into shrapnel reminiscent of wars waged for reasons not understood by the army itself.
No fairy tale, dirty laundry still exists. Gas still needs paid for and groceries still need fire and ice to become dinner. Just a soothing knowledge that I am responsible for only that which I choose to be. And Jesus...that realization alone is cathartic in the simplest but most complex form.
"I've come to a conclusion." "Here's the deal."
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