The Other Side

I find it odd to return to OP. It just hasnt been long enough for me to feel so different. I am somehow removed from this place. The oddest sensation on my figure tips when they find the name tag on my chest letting the world know that "im just visiting." Ive become a guest to these places...though i suppose that's all we ever are. Like a true teenager, death is so far from my beating heart. Well now im on the other side of living here. My time is up and both my soul and the city knows that. The past tense has fallen thickly upon this place because i know within myself that i will never live here again. Or at least for many, many years. Yet, i cannot quite explain my contentment with that. It must be rooted in novelty and thinly enhanced temperance. It seems our lives are filled with these anomalies. Just these little time capsules where we never really settle on the ground. Whether it be purchased with sorrow, joy, boredom, confusion, or contentment, what an interesting feeling to be immersed in. House would tell me that life is just a series of rooms and this feeling im describing is another room. Poets would call it the thrilling excitement in penning a new chapter and the stereotypical emotion suppressed male would just nod in understanding and agree. Well however you have found to express this concept of enchantment, please use that to understand how i feel at the moment. For so long i have been held in a bubble and a room that i never wanted to be in. We all wear chains for someone or something but the trick is to find a master you can slave for in happiness. Academic pursuits never suited my tastes. They left friction burns on my wrist and ankles. That feeling of entrapment is suffocating. The panic i felt and the doubt. Cognitively i could transcend it but sometimes things hurt so bad that you cant reason your way out of it. I think people would get a better understanding of themselves if they really studied the concept of trauma. For i do not see my experience as out of the norm, actually quite the contrary. I do, however, believe that most of us live in a constant state of minor PTSD. Well, that aside I am very pleased to introduce a new motif. My writings seem to focus on all the same things as is to be expected. We often have much more time to right how we feel because how we feel doesnt often change. For something to press its way to the top of my mind so strongly that i must complete the circuit and ground it in writing means that it has taken a long time to get there. These things take time to pass. Whereas before, sorrow and recovery were my primary thoughts, now my thoughts have passed on to rebirth. Autumn and winter are finally ending. Spring and Summer have begun a waltz within my soul and though very few steps have been taken, there power is intoxicating. Rebirth is the most beautiful thing we have on this earth. Like the concept of mercy, we could never know them without sin. Though i never thought that bridge would burn, Im glad to continue writing on the other side.