I would like to get off this ride. Maybe I never want it to end. Where did I go? How do I just do things and just watch? Sometimes I feel like I'm just watching, like someone else is the real pilot. I'm just hanging on the back of the plane, watching the air move past. Feeling as it rushes over me, touching with spectral tendrils. I know this happens, it doesn't bother me, I don't even know who's talking right now. Is it the One? Or the Me? I guess it's how you define 'me'. I've lost my dictionary, I just knows what feels right. And when it doesn't. I hid so far away, all night. Who did I send out on point then? Someone has to drive this crazy train.
Truth is a bar of a Starsoul. When it is gift wrapped in a soft cloth and given as a offering, it will always be pure. We simply react to its blinding light through our little red glasses. We all wear dozens of them at a time, each a slightly different color. They dance in our eyes and we do not see them. Sometimes the brilliance is blinding, so we let our glass grow cloudy. Sometimes the aurora will dance in colors we cant see, even through the clearest glass. But rarely do we see all the spectrum of the radiance at once. Its always wise to never trust your lenses, and I have. But it will cost. Today it will, but this is just the steps along the way.
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