In all things there is a something–transient and moving throughout the world. It is life and time and purpose, and it seeps and winds like softest rain. Rivulets fall down spines, droves of little droplets with nowhere quite permanent to be. There is no such thing as permanence. The world is always moving and vibrating and trading energy, and its life is no exception.
And in quietude, even godly visitors feel it. It is different from home, from elsewhere, from No Places. And that’s fine. It wouldn’t be very interesting to walk in such a world if it were exactly like the next, or the next, or the next. Always something new, here, something old changing, something finding new purpose.
Purpose is a beautiful thing.
Where do you truly live? Are you in this moment, in the past, or somewhere else entirely? What makes the world fresh to you even after years and years of walking it?
bowthings: Caverna Obscura Perfect Gift Top ~Light PINK~
where: home in the graveyard vi edited like 40 sec after i took this