Brave

It's the advent of destruction that tests character. The eve of pain and misery is rife with crows, banshees and other things that go bump in the night. But bump they will, for their incessant howls and jowls will never cease, never tire. And they want to devour you whole.

The snow will flurry and cover all, murdering nature and leaving trees barren. Warmth will be hollowed out with nothing left but puffs of oxygen by those who brave the cold. Those with fortitude to stand tall and face the arctic wind head on, even with tears freezing your smile.

It's not the pain that powers our perpetual motion machines known as "the heart". It's the desire to keep living. To beckon the past and reflect on the future. Time is not linear, reality is not a line. it's an ouroboros, never sating its appetite for its own hatred and grief. Our simple mortal shells live in a state not unlike the mobius strip: never ending, always circling.

In this circle, it's the desire to bargain with the powers that be to regain sanity. This is contingent on this act being egalitarian, as if the one with the power will budge. As if the bargainer has any leverage.

And that's what it is. That we are more than what we are. We cry. We love. We sleep. We eat. A day unchanging happens to be the most important piece of eternity in the universe of self. The ocean of time is crossed not with pirate ship, but with a raft floating along with nothing but the power of hope. 

Peel away the layers of the crying onion to find the place of destiny. The layer of truth so exact and glittering with verisimilitude that all will silence. Each carapace molting into another fragment of history. Tear to the center searching for the way to return to safety.

Find the quiet inside to survive. Listen to the world murmur into nothing and watch the trees cover your aching body. Feel the pulse of humanity which binds us all, yet leaves us alone.

Most of all, depend on love to nurture the lost pathways. Be brave, heart. Be brave.