#12.3.19

"Simplicity"

this baby boi right here apparently has cold rn...😷

I stood outside amongst the snow & for the first half hour, all I could revel on was how very quiet the world seemed. I thought, my, how hard it is to believe there is a soul living anywhere, Least of all any in my own breast.

I journeyed across my yard, amongst the snow & the illusion was broken by the sight of a man, set to work with a shovel. My leisure no longer was peaceful but then a competition. The fluidity of my thought was lost & for the next half hour, I slaved away similarly.

I stood again, now on my portico, amongst the snow & the heavy burden of silence reached my ears once more. I observed how white, how pure, how beautiful in monotony the world was; what color there was lay in the barren trees & their rust-toned skin. I thought, my, of course that literary figure who bore generations of misinterpretation took pause here; of course it is impossible for man to view such perfection without drawing parallel for centuries. 

I buried my nose in the cotton against my face; the glass fogged, turning the world a sepia tone just shades lighter than that rusted skin. I turned my chin upwards, eyes begging for some hue different. I thought, my, the perfection is beginning to burn.

Alas, the sky was blanketed by a heavenly, glowing white. The world was cushioned & the silence was beginning to be comprehensible. 

I think this is about something within myself. or me and my relationship with God.