The perils of return
Every time I return, it is so much more in my face all that I had unsuccessfully tried to escape. It feels like everything comes back in focus, crystal clear. The suffering is more potent. The reality is more stark. What 'could not be' is more gigantic. None of this is surprising knowing the depths of emotional derangement in which I was immersed during my last visit. Since finding that deep new abyss of thick, slow-moving soot that pulls one into an eternal and evolving suffering, I haven't been the same. Even after my departure last time, the insurmountable pull and the multifaceted inadequacy have plagued my days, especially my morning drives. But being here, in flesh, in real time, is powered by the perceived proximity of loss and defeat. It feels like the curtains of mist are cleared, the fog lifts and the grey clouds of sorrow which I could feel on those drives are in focus, right in front of my face. I know it is the association and memories that I unearthed. It i