But Which Way is Up?

The way a lot of things seem to work.

The way feelings can be conveyed and pondered as fact, fiction, or personal insanity. The way thoughts overflow from mind to the safe, mildly-controlled space that is actually still free-range for judgment. The way life has moved from not reading because you have all the time to do it later, to not reading because there is no time. The way people come, go, come again, and you, boundary-less, allow it. The way faith slips through your fingertips but leaves the most gracious residue. The way summer isn’t here long enough and seasonal lows get too comfy, too fast. The way the temporal new year tricks your mind in a good way— the big jolt out of that dark ocean as soon as the confetti spills. The way one side of the internet tells you you’ve been lied to, and you realize Spring actually does feel like a better fresh start. The way people write things that resonate all too well and you fawn over it until your words sound familiar. The way good company soothes the over-thinker and the over-thinker makes good company. The way life works in that tepid kind of cycle. The way cycles are nothing more than the regurgitation of good and bad choices— not so far removed from where we began— not much further from where we end.