Cross Street

It’s been a long while. A long while since I have spent a moment with myself, getting in touch with the Inner Self. I am contemplating a few things, and the foremost on my mind is the return to darkness. A return back to Mother, or the Queen.

The Fool, making a circle of his journey around the world, first meeting the Magician and then the rest…

A return would raise problems. Problems of pain and problems of melancholy. One could do without them it seems. So well that even I can’t put the pen to bear anymore. Perhaps it signifies something, that I need to step out of my safey zone, into the silence…

Enough of me lamenting again…I have to lament everytime I step into here eh?

But then again, some things still inadvertently reminds me of the past…

Every time I open my door, the keys would bring back a certain piece of the puzzle…

Everytime I pass by the river, and another piece would fit in…

Everytime the bus drives by and there it is again…

Somewhere, everywhere, something lingers…

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