Elucidating Questions

Could I even count the ways I miss the sun?

The brilliance and the warmth and the way he just gently touches the skin with his light

Just you can have too much of a good thing, that’s always the thing

They tell me to get a lightbulb it’ll help.

I do appreciate the consideration but I’m not missing a lightbulb

Great, massive, brightest and our planet’s very mother and father at the same time

No I’m sorry I cannot replace him with a lightbulb

Oh sun man, oh sun being, oh sun goddess, I love you no matter what you are you are impossible to replace

Dare I say I ache for that peculiar warmth

Have you ever realised there’s nothing quite like it?

Even standing next to the forge you may think of the fire inside as sunlike, but does it not feel more like a completely different being?

I like to wonder if every fire has a different warmth and perhaps we are not sensitive enough to feel it?

I wonder things, wild things

I love how wild the sun makes me feel

The two most wild things we can do, drink water, and stand in the sun.

Afterall there were times when none of this was here,

But sunlight, lands, and water.

I often wish humans had learnt photosynthesis

Or something unthought of entirely.

What could we be if the light we live under was all we needed to live?

I feel I would be feeling very much like this when grey says stretch on as the forest drinks its fill of the rain neverending

Oh sun how I miss you

Seasonal weather doing as it pleases taking away my stars and planets and moon

I miss all my supposedly inanimate objects

But Sun my favourite star I would take you above all.

Shut up and be poor in silence

I hear it constantly

Just shut up and continue to be poor

While we have enough food in our cupboards to feed ourselves

When we can buy Christmas presents and decorations and Christmas dinner

Just shut up and don’t talk about the solution no one wants the solution they want to stab the homeless so they can say

Oh no I got attacked by one of those evil homeless poor people and I had to stab them

Again I’m the one who has to understand the side of the people who have enough to give

Imagine having enough, let alone enough to give

Every year gets harder and I have less, and less, and less

And they’re all getting by and whining about inflation like they even have to give up their Starbucks coffee to eat

Understand the people with money, they’re a sensitive sort

Don’t talk about not having enough money it hurts their sensibilities

Shut up about the answer the masses will laugh in your poor stupid face

I guess that’s just how it is

Today was a hard day

I was alone

I cried

I checked my bank account several times hoping a miracle had happened

I sought understanding and was met with yet more men who don’t seem capable of understanding anything.

People incapable of empathy.

Many times I’ve wondered if this life is a punishment

People are impermanent.

Constantly needing and not having.

I see people living lives worse than mine that still have friends and support

Many who don’t

Is the human condition really to want forever?

I feel selfish. Always hungry always lonely always not enough money always not enough.

I tried to be settled

I tried to accept what I’m given

Why is there never enough food and never any faces to see and never any sounds to hear and never enough of anything for me to feel…

I just wish I could feel safe.

No fear of rent not being paid

No fear of starving to death in this sick fat as fuck body that doesn’t lose weight

No matter how much I fucking starve it

No fear that the last friendly face that wasn’t paid to see me I saw was over six months ago and that it will in fact be my last

No fear that I’ll just die because I’m so unhealthy but I literally cannot afford to make any changes that could possibly save my life

Poverty is sick. I do not understand why humans created it.

Isolation is possibly the best form of punishment. Because it eviscerates the psyche of the person going through it.

Dear you,

How are you today?

I hope you are well.

Indeed I hope your morning wasn’t filled with tittle tattle such as mine was

It would be nice to know you have some comfort in your life

I wonder if we will ever be in the same place at the same time

Do you have any idea where I am?

Will we ever be in the same place?

It’s as unlikely as snow in November on Vancouver Island

It could happen

If you happen to be in the same beautiful room I’m in

Do you look at the ugliness of these buildings built to spite nature like I do?

Or do you see them differently than I do?

I’ll say Here I am

And the story will begin.

My life has been this epic journey of searching for love

Love that changed with time from familial, to friendship, to romance, to anything.

Never have I found it over pouring

I am hesitant to say I have found something because I always get proven wrong

Someone who truly loves me

It always seems to come with strings attached

I always find myself caught in them

Do I even believe in the love I am searching for?

I have become accustomed to living my life loved by creatures who I do not fully know how to communicate with

Wondering if that’s all I’ve been allowed yet not wanting to disappreciate the love I have

Sometimes I’m so sure I should only be allowed what I have

I don’t understand these humans with their strings

If you’re here I love you

No object permanence

I struggle to remember anything not in my view

But I do love you

Whomever

Whenever, wherever

What ever

So afraid my mind is slowly leaving me behind

Will I ever see the love I seek?

Found by speaking the same language

How does one at once know everything yet in the grand scheme nothing?

For in the drop of wisdom rose a tree whose roots were good

Standing in the forest I breathe the air the trees breathe out

A little sweeter for the kindness in the bows

Standing with a great tree who speaks more of times unspoken and things unknown to be known eventually

Keeps her secrets in her leaves

Such a quiet temperance, yet such a calm serenity

As majestic as a royal appears all in drapes of riches and majesty

As calm and beautiful as a tree who whethers the storm on a cliff all alone

Surrounded by trees who breathe the air like any other tree this grand wonder

Breathes sweetly in the unbreatheable and exhales a soft kindness that clears so many fears

That I have standing by this great being

And yet,

To call her anything else but a tree would surely cause her to deny,

I am but a tree she would say in this great forest of trees who encourage their own logging

But, here, standing in the forest she towers

The air is sweeter, her leaves are greener

Under her is a haven for all these wonderful creatures

She enables such wonderful things.

Can I appreciate her?

Can I help her?

Can I breathe the air I breathe and as I exhale add a sweetness such as she does?

Maybe I will spend my life learning the ways