It was all said in passing, not a thought or notion given to it’s weight. I lived through it’s inception, birth. The birth of myself had been clear, had been right. The beginning was always that way. Exactly as it should be.
It’s the rest of it that leaves the wake, the trail of the dead or dying. To only realize this is to look back, finally. Locked away before, not yet tumbled. I had tried and never saw, only a fog remained. I wanted so badly to know, but it always eluded me. Leaving me aching for knowledge. Confused in my own experience. Happy but always covering over the graves of thought left behind. To be forgotten, just as loved ones long passed. It’s easier that way, better for the heart. The heart cannot ache any more, it’s threads stretched any further. It withers in the light and burns in the dark. Why is this so elusive? It runs away, further and further, aiming to protect the host.
Weary and lost, one step further in any direction, is progress. Moving, even if in place, is the lowest common denominator of achievement. We all agreed, all signed on and now reality is set in place. Here we will be happy, the sun will shine daily and our lives will reflect the glossy pages of perfection and comfort.