Friday, December 4

A Flying Fish.

Escaping to the outdoors always feels like i'm shedding a skin. A weight that I haven't even noticed until I Inhale the fresh air and the silence. Surrounded by trees and quiet details. Maybe its just the feeling that I don't have to be anything other than what I am. I can be happy and free, and weird as fuck if I want, and thats okay. There have been big shifts in my life in the past couple of months, and it all seemed to culminate with the eclipse in September. We watched as the moon shifted from white to black to red, and back again. I was barefoot, in the middle of the grass, and you were looking up at the sky and smoking a cigarette that smelled like death. Another guy joined us, his shadowy figure lurking in the distance. But he seemed to understand that words wouldn't do that scene any justice and we all just shared that experience in the purest way possible: in silence. Afterwards, I was filled with this giddy energy. I wanted to laugh, and stay up all night, to cook breakfast at 2AM, to dance with you in the kitchen like we do sometimes when the moment seizes us.

Life feels is so expansive, and I have to remind myself not to fear change, but to enjoy it. Enjoy change in whatever way it manifests itself, even if it's an uncomfortable moment because they never last for long anyway. I forced myself take note of the butterflies in my stomach, and sweaty palms when I walked up to my new (awesome) job on the first day. To remember the way the light flickers when I walk into our dingy apartment building, and how it felt to drive home for the first time in a car that I bought myself.

It's all changing, and I can't help but to ponder Neruda's words: If a butterfly transmogrifies does it turn into a flying fish?

Where will all these changes lead? Who will emerge from this cocoon of hard work, and creative energy that I've built over the past few years?

I wonder.
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