The fracturing of things is rarely intentional. Preservation is always the goal. But infinitesimal cracks that are indiscernible to the eye are inevitable. And over the course of hot, dry, interminable summers and harsh, freezing winters those cracks grow more pronounced. They stretch and they grow and they widen until they are not longer easily ignored. But then, it is always so difficult to maintenance something that has been ignored for so long. And so the denial continues until the crack is much larger and undeniable and what was once a minor difference, a minor repair, is wholly irreparable. The structure is no longer sound. And, inevitably, the entire fucker will collapse under its own weight. The weight of a thing that began, initially, with only a few fracture lines and the indelible instinct that things were not precisely as they seemed.
There are so many ways to break. So many things humans do that lead to destruction. And in many ways, the painful death of the things we grasp so surely to is the only inevitable. Stasis is not a guarantee and none of us build thinking the ground is not solid or the terrain seems too treacherous. We build with a hope for the future, with a sincere belief that the foundation is solid and can withstand added weight and stressors and the inevitable tumultuous nature of life.
We build like the miller moth seeks light, as though our lives are interminable and we have forever to reach the one, ultimate purpose. How futile. How sad. How fraught with both beauty and despair and ignorance and eternal optimism. We build as though we have all of the tomorrows. And in the process, we lose so much of what we love. So many of those things and those people and those realities we love the most.
It is, perfectly, raining today. And the sky is alight with lightning and the inevitable tumult and anger of thunder. It is so easy to exist here in this present. Because I am the miller moth, climbing, climbing, climbing toward the brightest light in the sky despite the brutal reality that today is my one and only day. My last attempt to find that one truly, painfully beautiful light.
