If you’ve been there, it doesn’t matter how removed you are, how not-too-close you are, to the situation.
You don’t need to be there, or even slightly on the fringe.
Miles away holds the same cosmic shock as standing toe-to-toe.
In a flash. Flashback.
It’s all real, again. Not exactly the same, but you’re tossed that way.
Way back there, to that little box on the board that emotionlessly announces: This is where you are. This is your new beginning.
A new, non-optional, previously unimaginable, reluctantly occupied space becomes the jumping point.
Because the circular shift, the spin of the table, turns you dizzy.
The rules have completely changed, now, into a language you don’t understand. You thought you were winning.
This is the new precipice – the launch of the unimaginable.
Everything looks dully the same here in the realm of faded all.
The elimination of Point A to Point B, negates any previously planned paths.
The rebirth is deficient doors that will not take – that will never take – you where you want to go.
Open or closed; not one of them will stop the flow.
There’s no portal to the past. Only provenance.
Prior plans do not matter; there’s no map for this journey. No perfectly sized torniquet, either.
Bandage. Bandana. The heart bleeds through just the same.
with sympathy.
knabble 