Unfolding
Of late I've reached several important conclusions, mostly about the self, because most is about the self. Slowly, I'm tuning into the way I'm debilitatingly tuned out to things around me; or at least, sailing down the wrong frequencies most of the time. The flippancy of my self-description on the right (-->), like most flippant observations, catches the truth in a prismatic way. You see - or shall I say, I see - mostly I'm swathed in gossamer unrealities. Too light, too substanceless, and I inevitably perceive reality as vague, and mostly in terms of myself. Yes. I am a veritable airhead, and helium balloons are unavoidably doomed.
Well, no more. Metaphors aside, immaturity aside, cowardice is the greatest impediment to growth, and what is cowardice but a refusal of truth? Thus, bravery from now, because I need to grow up.
And you'll get no specifics from me regarding this. Suffice to say it's been several (five) things amassing over the past month, like an ingrown toenail, or the irritation of a mollusc about to unfold a pearl. Suffice too to say that you'll know I've well and truly grown up when I stop using all these goddamned metaphors.
Do butterflies miss being caterpillars?
(Dammit, I said no more metaphors.)