I’m at that point in my life, where I am left to sift through the bones of who I was and discover who I am. What I truly believe. It is a difficult task, to find the lumps of living flesh in the graveyard of self. It is daunting and filthy, and makes you face the parts of yourself that you wish would die, and the parts of yourself you wish hadn’t died.
As I sift through these piles of bone, I wish they were less bone and more sand. That can be sifted, and though vast, are not as messy as bones and rotting flesh. There is no sinew to decipher, there is no tissue to cut away or around. There is only dissociative dust to sift and sift until forever. In graveyards you must endure sights and smell you wish you couldn’t. In desserts there is only emptiness and sand and quietness and peace as you sift until you find.
I wish self discovery were a quieter business.