The mind. Wrapping around itself.
The existence of being surrounded by being.
An ocean containing a river. Already underwater.
Who’s streams flow together and a passerby would not know where the river started and the ocean ended except that the ever present current would drag you in faster than you could begin to ask the question, “can I tell which water is more dangerous?”
The ocean. The mind.
Stuck in obedience to the rules self created.
New rules not yet rewritten in body or soul.
One would say to try again.
We could say it’s a forever failed plan.
To rewrite. To paint over the canvas, to delete the file,
to white wash the stained walls, to pack up and move on,
to be put in witness protection… from our trauma and past
to forget “the plan” by learning again.
Who we are.
Who we now realize we were always meant to be.
Probably A Metaphor 