"Still afternoon. I breathe the early spring air, as memories of past rebirths of nature are unearthed within my mind. I decide not to mind them, as my only duty is to make the most out of the present moment. Love, I’ve discovered, is choosing to be maximally good in the face of misery, a beacon in eternal tempests that surround this existence.
This spring, wings are sprouting out of my body that is fragile and immovable. I have been unable to look myself in the mirror for quite some time now – I feel that I face a ghost of all my failures, a machination that was destined to fail at the simple purpose of being alive. I deemed all affection undeserved, any chance of redemption inconceivable. Every waking moment was spent prolonging the inevitable collapse."
I have written a few new poems this year, but I have already started shifting considerably to prose. It feels more natural right now to express poetic thought that way.
Also, new profile aesthetic!