I need a fix cause I’m going down. The first lyrics of the Beatles Anthology Album. Things don’t happen on accident. There is a network if unseen synapses that bind the universe into one massive web. What touches the north will vibrate the south. The still moments that the spider waits for movement are the moments reserved for strategies. A time to collect the energy necessary for an effective response regardless where on the web the prey lies.
I too have been building a web but if you were to look at it through the light of the morning sun you would find that the pattern is off. Although there would be connections and perhaps every so often symmetry this would not be the web photographers would love to capture after a light drizzle.
Give the spider a drop of lysergic acid D and the web would appear delusional. That is me.
Who have I been.
I have no one to hold me accountable for the structure of my web. So long as the spider capture the fly and wraps it than the web is effective.
My web has been effective. Effective just enough not to starve. It is because I rise in the morning before dawn and go through the motions of connecting the lines and appear to be busy. So long as I produce the strands of adhesive shit across the tree line there will be fortunate events that occur.
I have been, for too long allowing my work to be just that. Dull and dumb, faded and forgettable.
Who was I and who did I become?
I keep log of the seasons of my life that can be analyzed and restated to reveal one truth. It was in the times of cleanliness that my web was most beautiful. It was a time in which I had faith in the potential of what my efforts could be.
I would think and believe in dreams that only a mad man or obsessed genius could fathom. Yet, here I sit a sad and broken Humpty Dumpty alone in the silence of the struggle that can only be mine. To declare my weakness would be a decree of failure and not one of a lesson for success. The story cannot be told in the present. It can only be well documented. And so therein lies my epiphanies.
I will make an attempt. On this very day I will attempt to discover who I have been. Masked and concealed behind the vail of a shadow so powerful and secret that only the angels and demons can converse over their true impact on my potential.
I can no longer deny that my pursuit of a more permanent flow state has been watered down and medicated to the point of obfuscation. Blind to that which has been right under my nose only to pass through my lips in an attempt to hide the truth.
The truth that I am powerless against the force that draws me towards great things. No matter how hard I try to negotiate with the gods of reason there is no more room for compromise. I cannot give into my demise so willingly and so indefinitely inevitable.
When the spider agrees to the dose he cannot predict in the moment how long it will last and if he will meet hit angels or confront his demons. He must sit patiently and wait for them to appear in the forms that only the gods can reveal. the gods and time.
Give it time.
Just this one day.
Allow the seconds to pass and merge into minutes. Allow the minutes to melt into hours and then the sun will set and you will know what you are. The moment of defeat or victory over the unseen forces that tear at you perhaps only pull on the delicate strands in the morning.
Allow the universe to reveal the natural beauty of the sunlight that you have been avoiding for nearly 20 years. Covered in sheets and shelters so that the truth cannot be seen. Afraid of what might be if I actually faced myself in the mirror. Naked and alone.
Crouch in the center of the web. Allow the warmth of the star to cover you soft brown hair. Feel the breeze pass through the opalescent creations. The heart of the sun and the heart of the spider beat in a rhythm. The universe will help you find your weakness and allow you to build on your strengths. If by faith alone.
Be patient and be silent.
I am not who I was. I am not who I will be.