Change is constant and with it comes uncertainty. It either overpowers you or you make it your bitch. It’s that simple man. You either own your core or lose your hand. Step by step, through the unknown, yielding to the flow of things and keeping hopes at bay. Hope doesn’t work when the ship is sinking. Maybe with a fluid hope, a fleeting hope, everyone flees the boat while others are singing. Who’s that octopus on the ship, going home?
The unknown takes you down or you go down with it. The unknown, that fire-breathing dragon, got to die before you die, seeing the body will expire. With all the wonder and magic that occupy the flesh, we are fragile to the core. It’s the warmth and the cold ugly truth that makes water a teacher. Water doesn’t lie. She plunged her head into the fire and turned to smoke. Gazing at the sea. that thin horizon. breathing the ocean’s depth that breathes from underneath, wondering about the mystery that lives there.
That breathing gatekeeper is the dragon you must slay. It is not a single event but an ongoing dance. You’re either grabbing at waves or sailing with the sea. And what a sail it is. An emptiness interwoven in the soul, so it feels bare and you don’t care because you’re there. An emptiness free from pre-conceptions. It’s all just the smokes and mirrors. Once I was broken and alone then I saw the mystery that it is, feeling its power and its wrath, its vast emptiness, and at last making uncertainty my bitch.