(no subject)

[adrienmundi]

I do not know how to sort, to process. There is change; can it be isolated, or does it flow to all corners, and if it does, what changes and how much? A particular form of rationality is at work, one that is accessible to me most times, but it's completely divorced from emotion, the nose in the dirt, bodily experience in which the rest of me is tied up. The gap between that use of reason and the torrential, unblocked emotion is larger than I remember, perhaps larger than it's ever been. I don't know how to bridge metaphorical heaven and earth. I don't know much. This can't be all there is to wisdom, can it? But I do have a cleaner than usual kitchen. Perhaps this is a small, functional silver lining.