This is what happened.

Cycles. Patterns. Trends. Themes. Messages. Lessons. Beginnings.

This is what happened. I don’t want to admit it. It may seem like a code to you, or maybe you already know this language. I hope that you aren’t fluent in this language, the language that seeks the truth. People who speak it have known pain, and I really hope that you haven’t had to experience that in your young life. You have? Share with me your story, sometime. Here is mine. I will start at the end:

In the end, we were moving. We returned to the place where all those bad things happened and we sold them for a profit that we never got to put in our pockets. We didn’t believe in making profit off of people who were just surviving. Could we ever free a commodity in this world?

“I guess we could live in a forest or something, out of a house we built ourselves.”

“That sounds amazing… but even then what if we fell ill? Surely, we would need to go to a hospital, and that would cost us money for medicine. Money that we wouldn’t have.”

The sway of the Society was the thickest fog I ever found myself swimming in. And the fog was only thickening by the year and I was drowning.

The summer aftr the ‘summer of love’ wasn’t as sweet but it sure was true. We wanted to see the truth in things, even if it meant seeing the pain and suffering. It was the only way, we thought, to honour it for what it was and not for what we wanted it to be.

Have you ever felt so free? Like standing in a farmer’s field in the middle of June — he is growing alfalfa at this time of the year — and you think, what is alfalfa, even? You are feeling this friendly wind tickling your collarbone and you see Mr Sun’s dynamic hues colouring the insides and outsides of your cornea. You feel a solid presence to your right standing and witnessing this divine beauty. Who is it other than your sacred soulmate, and everything feels better because he is here. This memory is divine and as such, you instantly forget all of your pain. I remember this moment did happen, I pinky promise it did. But I notice that as soon as I try to hold it, cage it and admire it for even a little while longer, a couple seconds stretching this fixed moment, the moment is gone. Just like that. I am reminded of the wine, the vodka, I drank in the primal youth. And then I’m gone. Just like that.

We were seeking truth, or something that I don’t yet have the words to describe. I think you know what I mean — we were looking for that ‘thing.’ The space between my fingers tells me that thing has been here all along, but I need to see, smell, hear, touch it — no?

I reckon that last summer was aged wine that you needed to sip slowly in order to enjoy. Lick your lips a few times and savour the sensation. Truly absorb the taste into your body, because who knows when we will receive another bottle.

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