Goals

the lesson i must learn is how to appreciate life before it is worth appreciating

the Goal, I search for: is it you?

A child A future Someplace to call home Life Living Family and friends A wider circle People Society

Freedom Harmony Service Honor Respect Love

Sacrifice

It still hurts, in a new way this time. Knowing I can’t choose you. I never could, but I believed in myself all those years ago. Defiant. I said you were the one, then had to live with going insane. Reality writes its own story. Who would believe what we had seen? And I still question if you saw it too. Question if I ever did. Still question if you would lie to keep me. Or lie to save me from myself. If I was lying, hiding, hacking the memory, phasing between existing. Or was I invested in my future death? You are the thin veil between the worlds. I never liked living in this one, so I made you my portal.

Restraint.

It’s been.

How many days I wished to hear your voice. Just that would have been enough.

Instead. I’ve been who I was before: Misunderstood. In ways that showed my true possibility… one trauma from the lake of the lost. Millions of souls reaching for another, the faithful departed in their hallucination that one more set of drowning hands could save us all.

It’s not fair, turning you into my savior. To know it and keep that secret, acting as the same for you in the desperate hope that you might return the favor. A freedom trap. Won’t you join me in my glass cage? Where I pretend this openness is an ocean. When I am motive: treason. Luring you to an aquarium.

God? What will I sacrifice of yours to gain that which defines me. What I will become. Accumulation. And the degradation of a gift. What can be built… all is taken by creation’s hands. Remains. Is that me in the vision of my future? Have you already carved a coffin? Or will I.

The worst torture you can bestow, is the choice to defy ones soul. If only ignorance, distraction, repression; burials. If only graves could hold sin’s sorrow. Because I cannot. Not like this.

There’s only one place to keep a gift. In outstretched arms. We pass, carriers. The burden: freedom to remember we are forsaken. And to know, but despite: to believe. And to tell our love that she must carry on. As a whisper, as a wish, as things that could be mistaken as the wind. As God themself.

As God organizing all life

Synchronously

Goals? I’ve been backwards, as if I control time. As if I control desire. As if I control control. As if I could win, someday. As if there was more effort left, more will to employ, more muscle to trade, more mind to collapse. More me to deteriorate. And maybe there is, more me to lose, before I find myself. Maybe it will be more unbearable moments to teach me strength is infinite. More loneliness to show me I am not alone.

And you? For you I will believe.

Dedication: the terror of being presented the choice to release all of my talents; in learning how to human.