And so it is,
That upon the return, my return,
To a scene so familiar,
I should notice the change in lighting.
I’ve been here before, haven’t I?
Well, I suppose, pushed by my loyalty to honesty or technicality as some would say,
I haven’t been here.
Nor will I ever really return.
I’m moving forward.
Always, always forward.
The same goes for you, don’t you see?
We are never here, or behind, or in front.
But rather,
A stirring combination of am and to-be.
What a flawless design, indeed;
For upon closer inspection,
This set up leads us to confusions and discoveries.
Laugh out loud even these words, and our capacities for them,
Lead to lies and desperation.
It seems impossible;
To inform rather than describe.
It seems inescapable;
This hope tied in with language.
It seems pointless;
To try and find a point in all of this, in regards to the world.
But the trap is evident.
We yearn for a meaning.
Strive towards it.
Depend upon it even, it seems.
But the truth is?
The honest to Beauty and Life and Absolutes truth?
I can bear this heaviest weight.
Which in turn, liberates all of you.
If I can do this,
Why couldn’t you?

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