in the dark before the dawn, old dreams i thought to be long dead reawaken. i don't think dreamers ever stop being hungry. you just become accustomed to it gnawing at your insides, so much so that it almost feels like this is who you're supposed to be - perpetually starved for something permanently out of reach. but after being in one place for so long, i finally feel myself moving. suddenly what seemed impossible to grasp is so close i can feel my fingertips about to brush the surface, penetrate the desire within. just when i thought there was no life left in this particular set of limbs, my hands extend involuntarily as if possessed, looking for something to pull us up.
honestly, i feel like chasing gods this fall. so i guess we'll have to sharpen our blades all summer. you can't just strike them down like lightning, ascend to their level without a second thought. whatever talent we might be born with, it takes a lifetime of ambition, starvation, innovation to even catch a glimpse of that vague celestia. you kill yourself over and over again just for a drop, and if things hadn't turned around for us this year, i think i was on the verge of forgetting why we even bother. i remember now, though. it's not that i'm not happy to be here on earth. i'm just not content to merely be happy.
a privilege, to find happiness so unimportant, to be so discontent with contentedness. but this is who i've always been. someone within, reaching for something, trying to see beyond what these weakened mortal eyes can process. trying to drag us all somewhere we've never been.