Salvation is free...

It starts with a sunny day; too sunny. The blinding brightness turns people away. It builds and builds, covering everything in an uncomfortable incandescence. Slowly, the day is overcast by fat, gray clouds. The sound of water pounding the ground becomes deafening and consuming. Everything I hear is infected with the rhythmic beating of raindrops. All too quickly, it stops. Then, in that misty afterglow, you see a different landscape.

It wells up inside of me until I cannot control it. It isn't as easy to name as sadness or mirth. It's something different. It's the fear of thinking you know how it's all going to turn out. All I do is put my foot in my mouth. I wish that I wasn't so anxious, so afraid of not having the chance to say what I need to. It feeds into anger, knowing that there won't be an opportunity to set everything straight. But I'm used to living inside my head, anyway.

After the storms pass, the atmosphere begins to settle. A kind of calm that twists your insides from the lack of movement. I'm always going to be wandering through a desolate battlefield, finding that my fights are far too complicated to ever win.