on journeys, endless journeys pursuing divinity. pursuing a place amongst the ghosts of integrity, amongst the antihero's of untold creation myths.
i have been unsettled, within myself.
ungrateful for my achievements, unimpressed with my decisions, weary with where my energy has been placed. participating in the shadow i am at war with. i seek to define its silhouette in a barrier of visibility.
i try to pluck the seams of my culture, to unravel it's deceptive weave.
the tools i enter the battle with have been broken. i stand naked with myself, only able to direct my own path. the tanks and cannons i have built to wage the wrath of my convictions have only been weak mirror images of one piece of my truth. indirect.
roots define the health and prosperity of its display. i have been taken, on a journey above soil, dancing amongst the displays and exaggerations of truths and lies, of culture and structure, of people and creature, of system and chaos. my end lies in the depths. my journey calls me to bury myself, to mimic the plants of fall.
i seek to drop my display, shed my attractive elements, and dig deep in the underbelly of our disease. here i'll find my enemies, my dead lovers, my broken self, all of my answers, and here i'll fall prey to the unbeatable.
here, so buried beneath our world, i will finally fail. i will be unable to surface, and the worms will feast on the gifts of my passing prosperity until my journey ends in decay, feeding the roots i desperately sought to poison.