Down, never out.
Days that force me to the ground, they litter my life, they ravage my determination, my purpose, they contort shafts of light into haunting visions of incarceration but they cannot not suppress my soul.
When skyward banners of red are up and there is only a desire to sink down remaining, it is difficult to appreciate the great distance between the lowest and the highest points of emotion, it is impossible to comprehend such beauty that is the vastness of variation that humanities emotional life encapsulates. A Great Harp, both woeful and joyful and everything in between and beyond.
Being on the road is hazardous, and falling down is an inevitability, rock bottom is a place with which I am frequently familiar. Being on the road is about moving forward and so it is conducive to a productive, fulfilled life to focus not on the amount of time you can taste the earth but on the amount of elegance with which you can pick yourself up.
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