Tuesday, August 15, 2006
Yes, totally bland.
When you're simply heading towards your goal at the end of long, long path; little rifts here and there, scattered marsh and desert along the way; you see an unscalable cliff right before you reach this place that you've been trudging for the last 5 years to reach. A crumbling cliff. You can fall to your death and splatter your innards on the jagged rocks below - ah, the stark reminder of mortality! You can get caught by the many branches as you fall, trapped neither here nor there, too exhausted to pick yourself back up and when those jagged rocks down below seem like a welcome end. You could hold back all those tears and reach the top, only to find so many more of crumbling cliffs beyond.
When you've come this far, with plains of desert behind and an oasis at the top of the cliff - temporary relief, yes, but to turn back? To what? To having your whithered corpse bitten away by the sand and blown to dust?
And to give up and bail? To where?
Picking at cherries along the way, dancing my little dances along this desert path. Meeting other wanderers who cross my way - they have their own journeys to make, their own deserts to cross; glad of a little companionship along this way. A little reprieve along this path - a small, rapidly-drying pool perhaps. They are but little perks to bide my time, till I face this cliff at the end. And all the time, I'm treading this well-worn path, a constant reminder. If others before me could get there, why can't I? No corpses along the way, but you know inside that there were, only to be gnawed to dust and blown away.
Wenky
6:14 AM
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