Will you point me in the direction of the perfection store? I need a new dosage. Weaned off an affliction and desires to shine the silver cell cage I keep myself in. My hands are grey with the countless attempts to catapult into unattainable completeness. A place that is far from real and even further from human.

Today, I held on a little longer. Allowed for the world to spin, for the die to fall, and the pieces to fit. In the process, I saw myself lose control of what I never grasped to begin with. It was a new feeling, to let go. Not to drift with the wind but to follow the path. To look ahead and not down, sure of the steps I take. It had been a long time since I channeled without feeling my toes pressed into the ground. Swept into a known holding, a route to oneness without peaking down, I embraced the gaze.

I had torn my insides up for the past 3 months, tormenting myself with a task that, in light, was simple. I spend the better part of my capacity in subconscious rumination cycles. It’s not my inability to act that I fail, but my ability to recognize that I fail to act. In a span of moments, I rerouted the anticipation of the impending deadline to heighten the masochistic euphoria I get from toying with Kairos.

It feels dangerous knowing what I like. I know too well, and in knowing, I know not at all. It is the Cheshire moon, I saw earlier, a demeanor I sport in my depths.