Desperately Seeking Stasis

Dear.
I am writing to you today in a whirlwind. My whirlwind. I sit at my desk and feel the Earth moving around me, as if I were the source of its own rotation. In my own way, I am.
Dear, I am lost.
When I was a girl, I used to write letters on the back of magazines to friends in foreign countries asking them things like, Do you think these cities will ever be torn down so we can submerge ourselves into the Earth once more, like our ancestors? I used to remind them of things like, Did you know that women follow the moon, that our cycles expand and contract like the waxing and waning of that mysterious white light that illuminates all of the darkness?
Dear, I have been pulled, but not by the moon. No, by the sun.
The sun is terrible at giving directions. The sun can’t find its way unless it itself follows the moon. My eyes are scorched, I can’t see, and my throat is dry. How can I feel my way through this mess without my sight?
What a disaster.
Dear, I ask you, how can I find my moon again? How can I come back to the dawn, how can I trace my fingers across the purple horizon to draft my own map? How can I learn the direction of my self?
Yours,
Lost.

Dear Lost.
You are overthinking. The answer is simple. You are already aware of where you stand on your path.
You are already aware of the moon and the sun and their cycles and how they play together.
You are aware of the concept of play and the concept of seriousness.
You are in a cycle of seriousness, a cycle of get-down-to-business.
After business, comes play.
Lost, be patient. Be lost. Be found.
Yours.

Author: Erica V.

Always seriously joking and rambunctiously soft-spoken.

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