oh, this weariness. it finally caught up with me and quite understandable. i have been trudging the path of my sleeping amazon rain forest, contending with gigantic mosquitoes, swooping birds, slimy creatures, clearing the path with only a machete and a prayer in hand. after some more swings at the multicolored veil always in front of me, i am pleasantly surprised to find multiple dirt roads. i then proceed to hack myself in several, hoping that each severed body part will have wings of its own and regenerate, as like the hapless lizard. that each severed body part will continue to walk the lonely dirt roads and all converge someday, maybe next week? you know the mother monster* is perpetually anxious, always curious.

oh, this wall i am forced to erect around me. or maybe it need not be a wall, for that has never been my way. this was the gift children of the klieglights like william and harry, kirsten and drew were blessed with early on. little creatures who had to construct their own operator's manual for these things. no kind mentor was around to secretly slip them a worn copy.

these things i have to put under the microscope: friend, intellectual sparring partner, vulnerability, truth. it was my own writing that provided the answer. in some cases, there were the unidentified seers around me - in waking life and dreamwork - who showed me the answer, some to questions i prompted, many times, answers to questions not posed.

in other words, these were things i already knew. i merely had to recalibrate the gauge for a new set of variables, parameters. those of long ago have gone down the road of irrelevance and inaccuracy.

when i put all of the aforementioned together in one cauldron, their combined aroma is both heady and pungent, as like that gigantic flower on display in a museum many years ago, the flower that reeked of death. i smell its power and it knocked me down. on the floor. weak. overwhelmed.

thankfully, there is always rest, and in this case, rest is assured by a bed made of prime-grade amazon foliage.

* c/o vim nadera, king of irreverent one-liners.