(no subject)
There's a drought in my head.
It's catastrophic. My beliefs have all of a sudden withered and I don't know what source I can turn to to revive them. But they're still connected by the roots, lodged into place -- but still searching, still hungering, still reaching. For anything. They wait for something to pass through, something that will nourish them, something that will help them grow. They grasp at the air, sometimes catching whatever happens to drift by with the help of the currents of time.
My beliefs are tainted, though. They're tainted by memory, and they release anything that makes them remember what it's like to be misled. So they grasp for something that glows with self-righteousness. They can't bear to find someone else to idolize; all of their heroes have crumbled into dust and blown away -- but some don't disappear forever. Some of those particles become filtered out, but the larger chunks get caught up in the thought process. They're difficult to erode, even when faced with the currents of time.
I think I'm going to have to hold out until the rainy season. It will come.
Just not as soon as I would like.
It's catastrophic. My beliefs have all of a sudden withered and I don't know what source I can turn to to revive them. But they're still connected by the roots, lodged into place -- but still searching, still hungering, still reaching. For anything. They wait for something to pass through, something that will nourish them, something that will help them grow. They grasp at the air, sometimes catching whatever happens to drift by with the help of the currents of time.
My beliefs are tainted, though. They're tainted by memory, and they release anything that makes them remember what it's like to be misled. So they grasp for something that glows with self-righteousness. They can't bear to find someone else to idolize; all of their heroes have crumbled into dust and blown away -- but some don't disappear forever. Some of those particles become filtered out, but the larger chunks get caught up in the thought process. They're difficult to erode, even when faced with the currents of time.
I think I'm going to have to hold out until the rainy season. It will come.
Just not as soon as I would like.