I could go up to a high point, see the view. Maybe with height, comes clarity. Seeing far down the coast on a clear day, feeling the air up there, maybe the winds of hope and peace. Maybe its just the silence and solitude. At the end of the day, it seems like, who cares. Its up to me to get over it, whatever it is, because life goes on all around me. Full speed it swirls, life unfolding. Love buds and grows, new ones are born, people create and soldier on. Who wants to wait? And they shouldn't have to. If only I could keep up.
Climb up, up, up as high as I can go. Let my hair fly, wild all around me until I can hardly see. Let the wind blow everything around and away. Try to redeem myself through wind and sheer height. So very connected with all I see, so that it aches and whines in pain, in my bones. But I cant keep up and I can't blend into it all. Always choosing a road of resistance and pain for all, I loathe my choices and inability to love without conflict. Am I an Island? No one cares and neither do I anymore. I'm tired of hearing my own voice and thoughts. I am forgotten but I almost asked to be. They work hard to love me and I let it all dissolve and come to nothing.
It feels better at the top. So clear and so cold there is nothing left to think or say. Do I have to come down? I cant be alone up here forever and I can't act like I have a singular importance to stay up here alone or have to be coaxed down. So I guess I'll just try to absorb for the moment, the solitude and breathlessness. Coming down is next, but I cannot and do not expect fanfare. After all, life goes on below and around me. Reaching the bottom means swallowing any fruitless or tiresome words or emotions that I may still have, and carrying on. Quietly and hopefully with a little more dignity than before. Taking responsibility for me, Ill offer what I can. Continuing on with the best effort to make choices that raise up and embrace those that have offered me love.