The Way She’d Go

I thought she was heading East,
last I checked to see which way she was going. Little did I know that there would be a labyrinthine journey she would expect me to keep pace with. Well, ‘expect’ it is not the right word to describe how she banished me into the depths of myself (lol). Facing East was so much easier. There was always a solid foundation, memories, and of course the support of subconscious indoctrinations. It doesn’t matter now whether it was a tight rope walk or a tight rope. Going nowhere to get to there desired to be an accomplishment. All that was, still is, when looking at it from the point of view as stored in the files of the minds of world wide thought systems. But is it ‘still there’ in the catacombs of my being after ‘perspective shifting’ and ‘annihilation of the false assumptions,’ in favor of ‘do you really know,’ which equated a different type of technique for the wiping off of the white wash of life for the oil base masterpieces. The wheel turns and the brush slowly wipes away dust as if an archeological dig for my own bones. It is the upside down of the right side up that showed up in the middle of a tumble sault through a cerebral mid-western twister. So it was: the western weather, the southwestern fire, the northern low lights that crafted an eastern exile.

Vashti
Art and Prose Copywritten 3/2008 by Vashti