I am drifting to an island. It will one day be haunted, but that day is not today. There are no ghouls tormenting visitors in these halls as of yet. They will come soon enough, rattling chains as they float by. It is my turn for now. I am mistress of the island, I have a throne in the castle. The castle sits high up into the clouds. The island is a mountain with valleys deeply set underneath the sea. I've explored it at least a hundred times, I have yet to hit the plateau.
The climb can be exhausting, sometimes leaving me faint and crippled. Motionless, I hide into any crevice that will hold me.
Every corner, every limb, every breath, every heartbeat, I am.
How impossible it is to be still. How incontrollable, my desire to climb.
"Lie down, under stormy night, tell nobody." I will keep you safe. Burrow into the hollowed trunk of the tree. The tree , it speaks to me, branches softer and warmer than any others. There is no tree I would rather have heal me. I nestle closer, it wraps me up, it picks me up, I am lighting up the sky. The stars may twinkle, but they don't even dare compete with me. They should really dim themselves in my presence. I thought I had made that clear.
Every moment, every glass shattering, every turn, I am.
A shroud of dew is set below. I know I must come down, and cover myself with leaves. I wonder if you'll appreciate my disguise. Quickly, run, away from the clouds, they will take you up again. Be patient, but don't forget.
I run wildly around my palace, It appears so much less appealing now, I sit atop the precipice, and I pine for what just was.
"There are things known and there are things unknown, and in between are the doors of perception”
“An unexciting truth may be eclipsed by a thrilling lie.”
“There is something curiously boring about somebody else's happiness”
“An intellectual is a person who has discovered something more interesting than sex.”
“They intoxicate themselves with work so they won't see how they really are”
“A fanatic is a man who consciously over compensates a secret doubt.”
“Classic remorse, as all the moralists are agreed, is a most undesirable sentiment. If you have behaved badly, repent, make what amends you can and address yourself to the task of behaving better next time. On no account brood over your wrongdoing. Rolling in muck is not the best way of getting clean."
- Aldous Huxley
The world is blurry, I am clear.
I want to jump into that picture and stay there.
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