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Shalom & Salaam
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We walk as they walked. Amore, more, ore, re A questioning time Devastated. Surmise
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Sistin' Shock
Today I toured St. Peter's Basilica and the Vatican Museum. That includes the Sistine chapel... I almost wish I hadn't seen it. Everything else is slightly gray, a little less meaningful. I'm an art addict, and it was a lot like a OD on heroin. You realize that maybe you can't live this way, but you have to keep on trying. I'm not sure I can make it as an artist, anymore. Everything I've done is so... quiet in comparison.
I feel like I am a second-class citizen in my own life, for so many reasons. Italy has been a vicious sort of catharsis, and I feel drained. Dulled out like an extra on some huge set. I sincerely need a big warm hug and a soft thank you. Some candle-light would be good too. I'll be home soon, and I can look forward to the Lady's tender care. I think I'll be just fine.
That crawling agonizing chaos, the world-eating shadows are sneaking back in. Like jackals that hunt between the moments..
you breath in and you're fine...
you breathe out, and you're fine.
But in that step between, there's this rush of searing terror. and it crushes you. Bit by bit, room by memory room. Statacco beat of your own fear and adrenaline. Your body's primitive attempt to respond, which really only induces a catastrophic chain reaction. As you crash off the adrenaline, and you sit there fidgeting suddenly.
this is the anatomy of a collapse.
But I'm going to be okay, I'm not the husk I was even just a week ago. Even the jackals cannot break me yet.
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D-rev.
