Flip Flopping

~
Winding down a road of interchanging prosperity and grief… The flip flop of good and bad entwines me, wrestling meaning from my grasp. I find something lovely wonderfull… Something all of my own, and this road of life, this found journey pulls goodness’s ripe corpse from my shaky hands. What I mean by that is, I procure something of meaningful good and then I lose myself to it. This life I have been treated to picks up that goodness and manipulates it, twists it into something much less. And I can feel it happen, I can feel those supports of mine creak and snap as they’re twisted tight.
~
Most the time when this happens I do as would be expected. I am flung harshly into a state of tension and vile suspicions. My head is enveloped by a gaseous mass of perceptual flaws… But eventually it fades, that mass of sickliness dissapates into the rest of the white paneled floor… That snow covered depression of thought envelopes those harsh, intimate reflections… Which is indeed a very good thing.
~
At this point I again find myself happy, confined within reason and surprisingly functional. But I always know… realize that the confusion will traverse it’s way up my minds barricades, trek to the top of space mountain as I might say… It’s a seemingly depressing thought because I know there will be times where I lose I. Where I morph into something odd, I don’t like that decided opportunity…. It’s similar to the way I think about death, I just wish I didn’t always know that it will inevitably happen again.
~

n

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