you ever catch a notion that you might be able to work it all out if you could just pause long enough to get behind yourself and observe exactly whatever the fuck it is that’s going on in your life? i’ve got that notion. imma slow it all down. and i’ll retrace my steps and collect every last heart-crumb that i’ve spread from here to the shushwap lake, and like a tall lady version of hansel, i’ll find my way home. because when you’re at home, you’re like zero years old and your sense of direction hasn’t developed yet (shit, it may never develop) and afterward, it’s only a feeling that you’ll recognize and catch glimpses and shadows and whisps and whispers of for the rest of your life. unless you’ve been diligent enough to shed pieces of yourself- abandoned strategically as you’ve grown- waiting, for that moment of clarity. wherein you’re able to stop while the rest of it keeps moving. and look back and begin to rebuild.
