Fear of Wet Feet

After a weekend of struggling to organize some thoughts, I arrive on Sunday evening gazing at the vast emptiness where my thoughts should be. I would like to say that I spent the weekend in self-reflection but that would be less than true. I have spent my weekend avoiding much of what I typically enjoy, my thoughts. My own selfishness to not expend the energy to follow the dashing rabbit has caused me to let slip by the opportunity to seek out the adventure that lies between my ears. In my own defense, however, it was a week which had knocked me from my center and everything appeared to be on the other side of the pane.

As the defense rest, the self-prosecution stands up to address the jury by pointing out there is an extremely high probability that I did not want to swim in the swamp for fear of finding those things I choose to ignore. This suggestion is one for which I have no defense, I can only accept that yes there are some things I choose not to look at for now and concede that these things will most likely still exist upon my return for them. Granted they will have morphed into variations of their current state but that means that they will appear more defined and easier to translate to the non-resident thinkers.

Being the emperor of an Impirical empire brings a heavy burden. The cranial universe without limits might be too wide to swim. Standing at the edge staring at my reflection, I pause....