maysblog

This is something I wrote one night when I was in deep thought….

From a distance there appears to be no real change. There are common placements just like anywhere else, despite the significant divide. The stigma is rich, though, and permeates the unfamiliar air. There is no significant smell, but it is present. As you approach the sights become typical. The opportunists have instilled their philosophy upon the surroundings, and the patrons are submissive. The start makes all the difference.

You see, when one crosses there is either hope for a better place, or hope to return to a better place. This is the challenge though. Is the start physical, spiritual, senseless? Is this place a tangible one, or does it exist somewhere between our soul and our instincts? Everything in our common sense tells us to ignore the anxiety, and we fight it back like an intruder trying to steal our secrets. You want so bad to be free from this tension, but it is placed upon us by those that have passed and mostly by those who haven’t.

As these tensions rise and those smells change, you rely on your outside self to assess what you are experiencing on the inside. This place is foreign, but so inherently familiar. The sense that everyone around you is empathizing with your condition is awkwardly calming and disturbing at the same time. As stop turns to go and the designated lines are passed, you begin to contemplate the ridiculousness in the previous moments. It passes, and the excitement rushes in at a rate you would never expect. The sweaty palms and tight muscles subside as you look into the reflection curious about what is to come.

Here is a new start with a new understanding that seems so simple now. Here the questions are different with answers not so rapidly regurgitated. Now there are no colors of restraint bearing down on you to be obedient. Ironically, here is the freedom. The walls that seemed so easily traversed and meaningless moments ago now represent much more than their consistency. The same walls that you would argue are risked everyday now represent a choice.

The path is wide open on one half, but narrow and difficult on the other. But which half is which? Where is the freedom? Who returns to a better place? Two parts share a common line, but why is that all they can share? When will understanding become more valuable than fear and conflict?

When will passion and perspective become one in the same?