In this day and age we conger images of hydrogen fuel or power bills out of our control. Yet we forget that its one of the most powerful and greatest gifts given by the natural world. That air our most needed addiction can cause so much fiction trying to move past its self that it lets off probably one of the most pure and awe inspiring feats of nature that of lighting. So brilliant that it will illuminate the darkest nights or the most severe or storms. But as all energy it is for the shortest of moments showing all its power literally in a flash for that is how energy is in our world. But we forget that we are made of energy and that energy flows on many different plains in our body’s minds and souls. We are but living batteries constantly needing recharged and at times we can work better then at others. Some of this natural force that propels us is outside of our selves truly emanating from use being feed off the surface of our flesh as it lives. Other is like the most beautiful timing known to us the little spark that keeps a heart beating for a life time never missing a stroke just ticking on and on without a hand to wined the gears of life. Yet this energy is more then we really can know for some is outside of our understanding. I was told that there was a depression in my energy that much like a pot hole in a road edges sharp and bottom firm and clear in its existence by the jolt you unexpectedly feel as you move over it. Well this pot hole is located over my heart this in no way surprised me. The next thing I heard was either there is a good reason for this suppression or there is something else blocking the flow that I can’t find. Being the simple man that I am I couldn’t start to explain the cause of this occurrence in words for they would only fail to encompass the full scope of how little I understand but how clearly I see all that causes me to have a cavern in the center of me. I live my life each day as one half of a whole I felt once that I found the other half of my world; when that piece left I wrapped barbed wire around my heart like it had been fired into a fence from a howitzer letting it wined its self so tight that it can’t fall of but will have to be pried off with delicate precision. I don’t even know honestly if I swallow or bury or any other form of not dealing with my feelings but I do know it takes as much as I have to hold it together each day. It’s like running from a train over a bridge leavening only the rail to guide you forward all well holding a pane of glass. Each little miss step brings the train closer each small flaw cracks the glass a little more. It’s only a matter of time, luck, will, or fate that can determine the end of that sprint know as youth. All I know is I have caged what it was to be me, in part due to fear in part to heal, in part to punish yet the reason irrelevant for it shows all the same in many aspects of my life. Only making the hole in my soul widen little by little as lives disappointments over shadow what few of lives true joys achieve.
I ask will anyone sacrifice their hands to the sharp barbs that bind me so tightly, or is that time past in my unknown fate?
Any Writings by Zachary S Wilson by
Zachary S Wilson is licensed under a
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Based on a work at
university of montana western undergrad.
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