I've sort of been in this experimental, revelatory, exploratory phase in my life where I just do what I want cause I want to and damn the consequences.
I also wait and listen like a wild animal in the jungle, eager for it's next meal.
I'm a hunter now doesn't deny the truth of the days I was hunted. It just means I decided to be the viper rather than the subject of the poison.
It means I'm growing, proof I'm not where I've been. That I'm actually trying to be present. My albeit paltry attempt at living.
I'd like to think I'm progressing but every time things get even a wee bit challenging I'm halfway off this planet. No bags, no hugs, no goodbyes. I could be at one with myself but not the rest of you. Trust me, I've tried.
So I keep a distance. I walk alone. I swear to the people closest to me that when the time comes...I'll call them home. Except the time will come, the bells will ring. The tears might fall, seldom, weakly. They'll continue on with their lives.
And I'll be lost in something I like to call my dark paradise.