the price of victory

there are moments in which i feel tethered to the earth again, i feel im back in reality, and i say sorrowfully, “i realize ive been lost to my madness”

i hesitate to call these moments of clarity, because there are equally as many, if not a lot more moments where I’d declare “ah! i can see now with such clarity, the hand of god and the ways of the world, the signs and symbols are everywhere!! the wind speaks to me!”

I see and understand so many things in those moments, but it feels blasphemous to speak of them, not many would believe me anyway, naturally, they’d laugh at me or suggest i’m insane. i feel often that they are correct, and other times, im certain ive seen treasures from shangri-la, jannah, heaven, all of them in one place.

in those states, i feel complete, i feel powerful, i feel much more enthusiastic about life. i understand why i spend longer and longer periods of time there.

its difficult for me to write, there are many stories i want to share, another person confessed their feelings for me, i want to speak of the ripples, consequences, so on and so forth, that i’ve seen the path, its divergences and blocks. i want to tell you of the karambit my mother stole and hid from me ,and ask what she would have done had i been caught in the street without it when i needed it, there too i’ve seen and lived. i want to talk about the time my father called the police on me for dropping out of high school, and ask what he would have done had i been gunned down by them, i have been there, in his single man home, as he sits in his recliner and regrets the day, i’ve tasted that future too. the very particularly coincidental tiktok video i saw from an account of a person who shared a name with me, a vision from when i chose not to have the whiskey sour and instead go to sleep that night.

there is so much, but i am being swept away, and in this way i am made complete, who am i to lament or resist what is written?

in my minds eye, i see myself, sclera and pupils both replaced with galaxies, i-

grief. the price of victory is grief.

you guys remember that thing i used to say so often?

aniki always wins.

post script.

that which submits rules

to rule is to be victor

to be victor is to incite grief

to avoid grief one must submit

to embrace grief one must submit

that which submits rules

to rule is to be victor

to be victor is t-

after all, wisdom tempers love doesn’t it?