Ashes to Angels

"In his face she saw suffering that was made old, as if it had been part of him for a long time,

because it was accepted, and it looked not like a wound, but like a scar."

For every wound there is a process of response– denial, anger, grief, and acceptance. The latter of which brings you around, resurrected, to where you started before the attack, and is the only part of the process that carries any lasting importance. Weakness is only determined by one’s potential to destroy themselves amidst the stages between whole and scarred, and although the emotional response is necessary, and should be experienced so as not to linger perpetually in the denial stage, the overall process should be rolled and swallowed as soon as possible for very simple reasons; inevitability, efficiency, and basic survival…

This awareness of the situation caused any and all feelings or thoughts I may have had on the matter to stop immediately, and I suddenly found myself walking away, barely able to grab my coat as my legs took me out the door. I had no control over where I went, and there was no specific purpose for my stroll, but I just continued on, down the steps, diagonally through the parking lot and alley, and into the residential streets. My blank mind, uncluttered with petty matters, was taken on a tour of beautiful, fresh, outdoor-dusk, and it accidentally threw me into that quivering stream of God-like consciousness for which I perpetually strive to grasp; this place of endless indifference, and endless compassion…where grass grows thick in the damaged earth.

My ability to manipulate the polarities of paradoxes at unconscious-will has grown to the point of being able to take it for granted. Places and situations I once thought intolerable I can now make enjoyable, and some weapons which could have once been used against me are now useless. I feel swallowed by some immense loving force, and would drag those that I love into it with me, were I able…