So This is the New Year?

And I feel different. I feel the past further behind me. These terrible memories turning into great ones. Ones of triumph. Ones of failure. Moments of highs and lows. I hear the world calling and asking more from me. Life goes on. Whether I do or not. I want to go with the flow, not be stuck and damming the chance of change that I have.

I don’t think my art died. I think I have been too focused. Too steeped in the practice of logic, rationale, and anxiety to solve all my problems. I used to be patient. Able to let the solutions come and go, trusting they would work out. They always did, I wouldn’t notice when they didn’t. Now my trust in the world is in repair. When it was broken, no one, nowhere was safe from the scathing flames of my shadow. My grief is exponential, perpetual without end. But so is my love. I finally have been graced again with my love. The rekindled resilience that sparks the passion of my curiosity. Gone are the days I cared of what others thought, for now at least. I can’t afford the fragility of meta perception. I can only afford the blind belief I once steeped myself in.

There’s no going back to before. The arrow of time is far from three years ago. I cannot change what happened, there is no immortality, and I’m glad there’s not. I pray there is not, because forgetting the freedom from suffering and death is forgetting the depth of what it feels like to be alive. Fuck anything that seeks to siphon my energy. The integration of my shadow again will bring me to the home I miss so much.