If escape was an option… how many people would line up in hopes of jettisoning their modalities and the beating of their days? If the new standard became the great getaway… then how exclusive would be the framework everybody left behind? How many people would like to slip into someone else’s lives and dreams and aspirations and broken chandeliers that they had left behind in chasing the way out?
Is it a restructuring of actual working modules that we need or a just a renovation of our minds? And if ignorance is bliss, is euphoria the abysmal dark depth of the unlearning? Who wants to regress into the unfolding of the codons and un-circling of cycles to a state of involution? You’d rather atrophy your vision then set sight on frontiers anew? Does it feed you the gustations so alien that you choke on the broadened horizons of your soul? Is familiarity your only last specter of home?
Where and when do you belong? And, pray tell, when will you let go?
There are answers you have unearthed for which no questions were posed to. There were many before us that probably led a more illuminated path of congruent peace and entropy. All of this amalgamates into one ying-yang of fashioned ideals. The obstacle courses created by her for her and by him for me, with a prize at the end, like the dangling of the unholiest of carrots. So feast on the nightmare that shines in your eye with every blink.
And when we find you still struggling to let go of your name; just know this: You have lived many other lives that spun from every misstep you thought you took and your parallels have taken up too much time and space in this alternate closet of vacuum. It is time to father the foster-child that you abandoned in the suburbs of your burgeoning psyche. It is time to dig deeper into the sky. It is time to make your bed. It is time to remember the reveries are indeed worth stopping for. Stop and sleep and dream a dream. Your circadians are aching from the rape.
