I'm alone in this.
What do i make of this instinctive overwhelming urge to run?
I'd make a Great Escape, if i only could.
I have nowhere to hide, but also no one to hide from, other than myself, and this truth.
No enemies.
No monsters.
Only myself and this mighty Great Truth.
I have nowhere to hide, cause Great Truths just can not be fled.
It's expecting me to live up to its own greatness, to grow and flourish on it.
I'm expecting it to bestow its greatness on me.
To make me e x t r a o r d i n a r y.
Well.
In a way it's a relief that Great Truths, pretty much like Great Lies, feed on their own momentum, then in time become merely trivia.
O, the stuff of nightmares.
Labels: Tales Of The Butterfly
