To R. or Phoenix patterns

... there are patterns that are painfully familiar to you and you bleed every time you feel sharp blades on your back - that's how wings are cut... quietly, slowly and hopelessly...

I was probably born with a huge burden of responsibility.

I'm still not really sure what this obligation means, but it's an enormous one. I suffocate under the weight sometimes. I realize that I'm shattering beliefs and that I will die hundreds of times along the way, but I will rise from the ashes like a phoenix. I break into bits hundreds of times on this route and try to put myself back together, but every time I realize that I've broken into pieces, I get even more vulnerable. I keep going over this challenging path again and again. It feels like such a heavy dream, although I appear to be asleep and to be soberly aware of everything that is going on.

There are moments when I feel like I'm here for something deeper than life. And during those times, I experience an indescribable sense of strength. I have no idea what this is or what I am for. However, it was in Phoenix that I suddenly realized I no longer wanted to fight and drop my weaponry, becoming a weak and frail woman—likely dying in this manner and reincarnating as another human being.

I used to be certain that I was born to fly, but right now I'm not sure. I know that's how things start to change. Perhaps someone had to remove my wings, put me on the ground, and love me for who I am—simple, mortal, and earthly.

And losing wings is always painful, but it does not always mean death.

11.12.24