It Can Happen Like This
Sometimes, we’re compelled by something deep within us, to destroy. We may burn our own houses down, slash our ways through a city-of-monsters wearing high heels and ties, emit poisonous fumes from our smoking nostrils on our ways out from lives that strangle us, to a life we don’t understand yet, in a God-knows-where place.
Some people may argue that this volcanic-ash movement that emerges from deep within must be a dysfunction. It must mean that something in us has snapped, like a guitar string with the keys turned too tightly. That the nervous tension made us crazy. Why else would be leave the comfortable torment of our lives for the unknowable adventure of becoming true?
After all, what we don’t know may kill us, but people having this experience know that what they DO know absolutely WILL. Kill our spirits, our dreams, our truths. It will leave us to die in the streets starving for beauty.
It can happen like this: a mysterious rose petal falls upon miles of sidewalk in free roaming prisons of concrete towers, and we realize that it is the first morsel of food our souls have had in weeks or months or decades.
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