Totality

 My conclusion this week is that I might just be the sum of all parts. From the mountaintop, the city looks like this quaint ecosystem of car noises, bikes, laughter, and warmth. I look down on it all with a feeling that I am not separate from it. That feels good. That feels right. That feels like what I wanted.

Sometimes, I fear that I will be unhappy when I am old. To morph from endlessly inspired, romantic and inexperienced poet to cynic... death be the more suitable option. Can I feel this connectedness forever? Does the pursuit of forcing it to linger destroy what joy froths there?

My aim is unclear. Maybe I am only becoming aware of what feeling to chase rather than how many digits I want to see on a paycheck. Is the point of working to enjoy what you do or to make enough so that you may go forth and enjoy life outside of the cubicle? There is a purpose in me. In all of this. All of this is me. I won't grow unhappy. I've tossed the bitter seed. I've casted my lonely parts away. Maybe I wince at the thought that I've exiled parts of me but maybe it was vital.

Happiness is buried in the pursuit of it. Don't smother it. Let it notice you first. Flirt with it. Give it the eyes. Take it by the hand. See love's palms. Kiss them like your lover's collar bones.