Like a River Makes a Mountain by michaelcahill |
After this many years, hallucinations are welcome in my world. I dare say I think I may even have control over their appearance and temperament. When I reached a point where I knew hallucinations came from my mind and reality remained reality, I grew to enjoy them. I no longer felt as though my mind failed me, but rather my mind helped me and even soothed me by assuaging my loneliness. A woman of uncommon loveliness, a figment, a brief fairy flight of fancy, tickles the giddiness of something inside me I can't begin to define. I observe her from a distance as I pretend to live a drab existence. Nothing is drab in her realm. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It will soon be Winter. He's a good man. I am without complaint. But, snow is cold and warmth is essential. These few fish mean so much to us if there is to be an us. I will tell him once again how wonderful he is. It spurs him to be a fisherman. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I am this river, one of many rivers. Though there is that perception that water is water, an angry vapor the same as an indifferent glacier, the truth is, I am. It isn't the water that makes me a river. It is my awareness of life inside me. It is the sense of purpose I feel seeking my destination. It is the connection I make between a dreaming man and a practical woman. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A moment has no measure. Time is the sum of all moments.
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