The past week-ish hiding in the forest immensely helped my head. The roughly 14 days that led up to this particular stint was head spinning to say the least. A lot of life-culling has been taking place behind the scenes.
Regardless of consciously projecting love to whatever’s around me at any given time, I keep a small click close. When I’m not deliberately breaking my phone, there’s usually about six numbers in it.
It’s not that I’m misanthropic, it just happens that the worst I ever get hurt is off the back of human behavior. So rather than expose myself to the risk at close-hand, I admire from a far and silently blow gold kisses that I hope contribute to the creation of a higher state.
I’m steadying from a throat slit that came from left field. It was an inadvertent slash from one of the most wonderful people I have ever met. For a minute, I believed it was a divine addition to the soul circle keeping me together. The ones I share the best secrets with.
The person I fell in love with left as fast as they appeared. I shed tears and wrote a poem. I guess that’s what I usually do.
at the hit
like i cannot
be any part
of my truth —
way of false.