The Winds that Awake Purpose.

​It was a long night, longer than most. The night made more so by the slow slipping of seconds that turned into minutes for miles, times meandering silence stretching through the cortex of the minds perception of it. He rolled his thumb across the tips of each his fingers like a ritual of one deciding his course.

 You see, this night was a night made darker by its dreariness, by its colluding cloud of bland reason, this night, this night was one of solitary thoughts wandering through the purpose of many things. The what of action and the why of all that could be. He ran his hand to his brow as he closed his eyes in the furrow of deep knots behind his eyelids, the pain of the mind is one that pushes upon ones sight.

 He sighed. “What does it even matter”. The first words spoken across the silence that seemingly had strangled his present discourse. “What if I don’t ever make it?” He said it with doubt that turned to disdain that he had even given these last words breath. ‘Truly though, what can one know of the variables that bend and grow?’ Ever was there the true rhyme of reason in his head. 

He rolled his shoulders, bending his neck slowly to each in a circular fashion, stretching the tension that was collecting there, like webs of vile thoughts spun by his foul concoction of dismay. Spiders spinning sorcery through his synapses. He breathed in. A deep long breath that he held for some of those slippery seconds, then let spill from him. 

He did this over the course of a minute that slowly became the imperceptible slow, the mile that makes no gesture as to how far along it is. He felt it as the last long breath left him, the weariness of worry, the dreariness of doubt, they too went with the air from his lungs. Good riddance. 

He set himself upright, rolling his neck again in a circular fashion, this time setting his posture also. He set his chin slightly higher. He pulled back his shoulders just a pinch. He inhaled until his chest visibly rose up, not just air, but he breathed in rejevunating winds, the winds that would awake his purpose.


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