the fog

i step slowly through the dark heavy doors and pull them closed behind me, head bowed in lengthy deliberation. worn brass door latches close against one another with a tiny underwhelming click as though voicing their disdain. i am abandoning the transparent sunlit life i have always known for this ignominious place. the doors know this, and they scorn my choice.

i raise my head in cautious defiance. i am taking these steps for a reason

its not cold and its not hot but i can feel the air coursing over my entire body as the fog envelops its newest addition.

dense. white. it conceals my naked frame from other eyes, while concealing everything from view, even the hand i have outstretched in front of me. the doors have disappeared right behind me. i cannot see anything, and nothing can see me.

glorious

the path under my bare feet feels soft but strangely dry unlike my damp skin. it pulses with a living energy that in other situations takes time to tune into, but here is vivid like the scent of orange blossoms. you cant help but notice it and be seduced by its appeal

not knowing where to go, or if there is a 'where to go' i begin to walk, slowly at first. the garish translucence of my past makes this future feel ungainly. acquiring blindness at this late point in the game requires due diligence and respect, so i walk haltingly, eyes open wide darting too and fro searching for a break in the fog, a glimpse of what lies in my path

but the fog doesnt break, it doesnt even twitch, and soon my darting anxious expression is traded in for quiet rapture.

i continue to walk and the path begins to change, leading up at some points and down at others. i sense that i am not alone, but in my wanderings i stumble across nothing that confirms that hunch, so i begin to believe it simply because it feels true, and thats the only sense i can rely on.

and i walk on
for hours,
and then surely for days,
and then time starts to fade like a dream.

still, my mind is heavy. and my heart is dark.

nothing masks the reality that brought me to this place. that made blindness safer than the false clarity of those who see. nothing overshadows the fact that i made this choice because i could no longer see with my heart and my mind what my eyes had me convinced i was looking at. the dissonance was so deafening that the world became an impossible place. so i closed the doors on it, and sought comfort in the predictability of the thick ever occlusive fog

i am giving up on knowing the future. it cant be done and the constant pursuit of it breaks my soul. i am giving up on living side by side with my past. mistakes of yesteryear never get to be of yesteryear if they are repeated cyclically

my only choice is to go blindly, timidly, and to work toward the beauty of the unknown.

i cannot see, and i cannot be seen therefore nothing is expected and nothing is required. my life is once again my own, without cause for disappointment, anger or fear.

in the fog, i begin to feel restored