enter the static & silence

Between the high pitched fuzz of the energetic atmosphere, and the lull of sitting in a place I’ve never been before, enters this weird essence of knowing that I am exactly where I am supposed to be.

It is not a reassurance, or a bold epiphany that arises from my core. instead, it is the feeling of a river, or maybe even a wave gently approaching a sandy surface. It is knowing where I have been without thinking about where I am going, or knowing how far I will roll.

I sleep twice a day, because dreaming is more important than the pointless stimulation being thrown upon me from all walks of life. If someone were to ask me how much all of it mattered to me, I would perhaps say 20%. I learn more on the other side, but there is never a sense of what is more important, and where.

But her eyes matter. I fold the lessons and the light I learn from them into a little satchel, and place it on my shoulder. I leave the rest of it buried in a grave for most of it does not serve me or her. I know the sounds matter, every note on the scale. Compassion between people, and the smiles they give and receive. Putting my pinky in soil and learning what’s in a seed.

If the sun and the moon are why I am here, it is curious being one who sees more inside of a room than choosing to walk outside and look up. The colors are brighter in here than they used to be. I feel them inside of me, too.