Chapter Seven

Morning has come and the storm passes, opening the fog into a luminous presence. The sun breaks through and sends its warm radiance all through my body. I soak it in like a sponge, my dry, stiff shell begins to swell and perspire. The blood pumping through my body loosens and builds momentum. My heart pounds with glory. My legs are warm and no longer feel heavy. I feel light and free. In the brilliance of the sun I am captivated. I breathe in deep and take ahold of the clean air.

Today I have been reborn with a new image. Ideas and ideals pour through me as I sift out the most viscous of viciousness. The foul gets converted and stored inside as abundant energy. Never before had the conversion of conservation taken place unannounced and so unexpectedly, for as I dreamt, unbeknown to me, the rage had slipped and evaporated. I have become clear and resonate a wondrous melody.

Vibrant colors spring forth throughout the landscape, dazzling my eyes with beauty. The wind blows through my nostrils and I can taste the sweetness. It overcomes me and becomes me. Swept off my feet I fall into a fanciful delusion that captivates my senses. A deafening tone rings throughout my ears. As I am found, and trapped inside the glory of sweet Nature, I become destitute to the world around me. I become a false being.

Cut off from Humanity, stripped from the perversity of man, I am a lone individual. This is the paradoxical utopian tunnel. A world mute of chaos, disruption, and stagnation; in the light and shielded from darkness. Yet, nothing is heard, nor nothing understood. I am alone. I find no solace in Humanity, yet without I become numb. Numbness is a temporary relief from enduring pain. Therefore, this beauty perpetuated inside of my mind, of the light at the end of the fog, will move me no further in the direction of progress or satiability.

It may feel euphoric and vibrant, but once the void is noticed, everything begins to turn gray. The time spent embracing the beauty eventually melts and drifts away when you notice the emptiness that suffocates your surroundings. I take a turn for the worse. I fall to my knees and watch as my face melts in my lap. My body spills on the ground and gets soaked up by the soil. The soil drags me down and I seep into a pile in a pocket underground.

I am in another cave, wrapped in the darkness of the silence. Silence, I have known this friend for many of moons. It is a friend that can ease the peace and it is a friend that can torment the very breath inside of oneself. There is silence from the Sun and there is silence from the ground, I have still yet to conclude the greater force. The one, the darkness, avoids everything and expects nothing. The light yearns for more, and when it does not find it, it succumbs in defeat to the darkness. I find it rather difficult in many situations to determine whether or not a fleeting light is better than no light at all.

Chapter Eight