Clouds cannot be contained

The desire for energetic temporary events and the mortification of dying from it. 

I am fragmented by love, grief, and servitude to the self. 

Acceptance of impermanence and the repulsion that comes from it. 

Is it beautiful?

Is it fun?

Is change such a bad thing after all

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Is it truly good like everyone says?

I am derived from fun, curiosity, and loneliness. Relationships to others and the self. 

Why?

Why?

Never mind that. Only do. 

Look at the clouds and see how they aren’t really clouds if you squint hard enough. Notice the colors in the dirt and love your past. A fossil can act as both a relic and a tool to move forward. 

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Find your own cloud. Your cloud is everything. Ambiguity is beautiful. It can be anything. 

-7/7/2024