Shutter

Sleeping patterns are off as of late. Perhaps I have a lot on my mind and while the body is weary, the mind has its own agenda. 

Things come in and out of focus. I see myself watching the train speed by me in a blur. There is a sense of hopelessness that comes with that. It permeates the air and wraps around you like a blanket. Ice cold and unforgiving.

Maybe it's the change. The shock perhaps is finally manifesting itself in a slow and cruel manner. Whatever it is, it is beginning to weigh on me. It drains me mentally.

Sometimes, the things you think can get you by, abandon you. Your wits, resilience and sheer determination - weapons which carry not bullets, but rather familiarity - they lose their luster and become empty husks. Part of being human. At our most steadfast moment, we fear that there is no other peak to climb and we feel weak.  We drop our guard.

In these most unsettling of times, we look for shelter. We look to wait out the storm and recover. The soul needs a shot through the heart - a shot of inspiration, a long awaited rush of salvation, a recreation of events that ultimately saves us from crumbling. Us creatures of unusual flair, battle-ready and defiant to the very end - our hands sweat and our realities become distorted.

While the dimness grows, there is still light. And we chase that bright spot on the horizon until we can finally touch it, and we let it embrace us. The strangeness of it all, so distinct and tangible, eventually leaves. The lens finds its focus.  The door to the train opens and lets me in.