february 16th, 2025 - the unknown

picture this, for a long while. the sea breeze wafting through the air, intercepted by the visions of green lush and blue vast. descriptions of what has been and has not been, untouched by your prescence. and brought up by mine. why is it that i must stand across the distance, looking in? why is it that the distractions tip over a scale, as though life itself must be some grand balancing act? why is it that i must pretend to be, in my own corner unscathed from the touch of strangers? why, in my small life, is there the unknown?

the things i do not know don't make me weary yet when i think about the vast other it sends chills down my spine. the little time i own slips through my rapidly aging and weathered fingers, smelling of mildew, shaking every so slightly. is it better to wonder? or to be present? to write about the abstract feelings that only show up once i conjure them, so surely they must be fiction? the long stream of thoughts i think and type as though this was my calling, but looking back this must be stupid. what amount of 'profound' could this be when it is nothing more than a list and questions? sprinkle in an observation, sure, but what difference could it make it five years? ten? nothing touching this will be the same forever. everything rots and ages and there's nothing i can do to stop it. there's nothing, not even death, that can cure my fear of the unknown.

the trees with green and blue and brown sway forevermore in the fictional wind, on a fictional island, conjured once again by my mind as a result of some stupid blog for an invisible audience most present in the theater of my mind. their existence is not tangible nor important but it stands and connects my thoughts together. i can't not think about the things which i fear or the things i do not know. which will it be? the void or the light? know nothing and live with no fear, or learn everything yet fear all the more, as you, once knowing, will always fear what else there may be and it will hold you in its grasp until you are never to be unwound. fear, the unknown, the sea salt air, everything that is or was, it doesn't matter.

and yet here i sit, on the other end of the screen. unable to function without schedules, deadlines, busywork to keep me away from the existential dread of the unknown and nothing. i myself can feel it inside, the unknown enraptures me and tickles my soul.