for years, i’ve systemically separated one part from another, only overlapping in careful, controlled sequence…. plate-spinning, balancing. it has never gotten easier, and i have only become marginally better at it as time passes. there have been no answers for me. perpetually looking, never seeing.
at some point, it becomes self-defeating. the comfort of routine brings with it a quiet, growing frailty, assuming its place in the heart and mind, unmoving. so vigilant, so defiant, so futile. it becomes part of you, welcome or not.
so i’ve chosen to grow with it. i am now a new monster, relying on old tricks to get me by. i will find light at the end of this tunnel. until then, this is my new home. come hang out.