(no subject)
The canyon was transcendence. Every step was sacred, every curve,ever shadow and shaft of sunlight. Layers upon layers of faintest light intersecting with shadow and rock. Every hollow in the wall a sacred space. It is beyond me to describe, I have lost even the will to convey it.
Because to tell the whole story of that canyon and my experience of it I'd have to explain precisely, every fallen log its perfect smoothness and jagged sharpness like whittled bone, every grain of quartz and sand, the weight of it, every single million grain in that canyon and how it felt when I walked along that river bed. Every single bend and curve in the wall. the darkness and the luminensence of the stars of glow worms in the darkness stretching way way up above us. Because this was it: each step through that canyon was beauty, was sacred. Every line,every shadow, the precise arrangement, the way everything was. I'd have to describe the exact geometry of everything, the shadows and light, the darkness and how it changed with every new step. It was so real, I never wanted to leave I never wanted to cross that blessed river, I never wanted to walk out to that beautiful pale blue light of world.I was so, so sad I almost could have cried. Because in the canyon nothing else mattered but this. That this existed that it was there. All my thoughts have been a complete jumble. I'd have to describe every fracture in the rock, every fern and moss covered rock, every glow worm, every photon of light in that canyon in mathematical detail. I'd have to describe it particle by particle, molecule by molecule, photon by photon, and the lines the curves of the wall the sharpness of the jagged ends of logs.
I was so happy, so so happy that day. that day existed and everything i felt existed and exists
Because to tell the whole story of that canyon and my experience of it I'd have to explain precisely, every fallen log its perfect smoothness and jagged sharpness like whittled bone, every grain of quartz and sand, the weight of it, every single million grain in that canyon and how it felt when I walked along that river bed. Every single bend and curve in the wall. the darkness and the luminensence of the stars of glow worms in the darkness stretching way way up above us. Because this was it: each step through that canyon was beauty, was sacred. Every line,every shadow, the precise arrangement, the way everything was. I'd have to describe the exact geometry of everything, the shadows and light, the darkness and how it changed with every new step. It was so real, I never wanted to leave I never wanted to cross that blessed river, I never wanted to walk out to that beautiful pale blue light of world.I was so, so sad I almost could have cried. Because in the canyon nothing else mattered but this. That this existed that it was there. All my thoughts have been a complete jumble. I'd have to describe every fracture in the rock, every fern and moss covered rock, every glow worm, every photon of light in that canyon in mathematical detail. I'd have to describe it particle by particle, molecule by molecule, photon by photon, and the lines the curves of the wall the sharpness of the jagged ends of logs.
I was so happy, so so happy that day. that day existed and everything i felt existed and exists