I should write more often. It would be good for me. To shape all my fire and dreams and storms into words and weave a spell of language with them.
My inner landscape is far too overwhelming to keep it hidden and locked within me. It could destroy me, drive me crazy, if I don't let it flow through my eyes and mouth and fingers onto a page or space outside myself.
It has driven me crazy sometimes... I let it take hold of my mind and burn it, burn across my whole body until sorrow and despair is all my cells know. But there is always light behind the darkest hour and peace waiting at the edge of the battlefield...
And I am always there, at the center, watching. The Witness, with nothing but compassion on my face... And the Witness never forgets that this is just a game...
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