The Alchemist (a Poem)
Written and edited in 2020
Written and edited in 2020
I say I believe in signs. I thought they were supposed to be butterflies or angel numbers or something…
A rehabilitation of the fig tree metaphor for anyone who’s ever felt paralyzed by possibility, anyone who’s read ‘The Idiot’ three times, and anyone suspicious of the phrase “dream big.”
I find myself craving the simplicity of incoherence, wishing to retreat into a state of brazen, youthful, unapologetic existence, where I am allowed expression without the constraints of language.
Objective: focus my personal and continuing education into an organized topic with deadlines, expectations, and a final capstone.
To live a big life you have to get used to living in the moment– because the moment is all there is.
My solitude used to be a refuge, and now it seems as though I’m conditioned to consider solitude the very thing from which I need refuge.