so, it turns out I don’t know anything.
I wandered earth until I found meaning, only to end up at my own tracks in the dirt.
I completed the last page of my field notes just to find the first page empty.
shedding my skin was a long, painful process; the grand revelation being that I had another layer of skin underneath.
I emerged from the cocoon a butterfly, but the gift of flight did not save me from the promise of dropping dead.
I did it so well I convinced myself I wasn’t even doing it anymore.
I held it so close I didn’t notice it had fused itself to my being.
the path of the spiral often looks familiar, but you never find yourself at the same point. the light at the end of the tunnel seems to stay in place with every step you take, until you are flooded with light at the very end. wisdom is slow and repetitive. the lapping waves of the ocean eventually turn mighty cliffs into sand. maybe try not to think about it so much.