"Associative Looseness"

I have come across the same terrains again. Familiar dirt road and recognizable lamp posts; all reminiscent of the things that happen over and over and over again.

Yet I still tread it every time. Unfaltering. Unwavering.

I clutch my heart at my sleeve; afraid it might eventually fall off. I scurry at the slightest bit of apprehension. I look around for some additional information that might help my journey less miserable. Shorter and fruitful even, a fool’s hope. At times I soar like an eagle, optimistic the whole way through. Unstoppable, aggressive, risky to the point of stupidity.

I held my breath and pretended to die. I lifted up my hands and imagined I could fly. I immortalize my pain through my writings; the never-ending memento mori I am preparing. Perhaps, like some best-regarded poets and writers, whose works were only recognized after their deaths; mine wouldn’t be any difference. More so, maybe my seemingly insignificant existence could be used as an excuse for something bigger than life. Then I… matter, eventually.

I cry at the top of my lungs. I tried to pull my eyes from its socket but could not. So, I sat there whimpering like a beaten, wet dog. Triumphant in my agony. Then the sun came and shined upon me again.

But then, tell me… how come I’m passing the same terrains, again?

The uphill and downhill slopes; the dust welcoming me at every turn; the smoke coming from the chimney of my broken self; how long will the wings on my feet last? How much more can the rope attaching my veins to reality endure?

And if I come to cross the same terrains again, I pray to God, help me.