I’ve recently started seeing things I haven’t had to revisit in years.
I remember sun-dried metal gates, like tall desert staffs that barricaded the property. This structure appeared to be locked, as if there was no key and no accessible entrance, so I knew not to step inside. It did look familiar, but abandoned of its inhabitants. Once I realized where I was, I had absolutely No desire to continue approaching. I have zero reason to reclaim these ruins, as nothing remains for me to salvage.
I caught a glimpse of someone’s shadow shift past me, they moved swiftly as if to evade my glare. Maybe they thought I wouldn’t see them slither away? Think Again. With Hermes by my side, I possess great clarity and agility. In an instant, I sensed their presence; immense feelings of humiliation and regret. I know exactly who they are and of course I remember them, running with their tail between their legs.
I heard an echoing voice fill the air. “Guilt weighs on them wherever they go. They have done wrong and must now face all of their peers with deep shame upon their shoulders.” It looked as though they lug burdens like a sack of coal. Though the weight is entirely theirs to carry, I am simply observing. Knowing the vile serpent that they are, I reserve no remorse for them.
I turned my eyes to the corner of the sun faded gates. One of the walls had been torn down and broken storage boxes spilled all over the sidewalk. I don’t know who the boxes belong to, but I imagine their Dirty Laundry was airing. Then, I saw an ally that I recognized. They shoved debris out of the way, letting rubbish leak into the gutter. I asked, “Why are You cleaning Someone Else’s mess?” Sadly, they could not give an answer.
These snapshots felt much like vignettes, perhaps an installation gallery. I know that when I see these places, I’m not meant to touch anything, as if looking at a Crime Scene frozen in time. Outside of my visions, I haven’t had any reason to return to this place whatsoever, and why should I, after all? I continue releasing the people and events that scarred me mentally, emotionally and physically from that time.
One of the challenges that comes with healing means leaving familiarity to experience new things and explore different spaces. I imagine this series is to help me remember these Gates of Hell specifically and the demons I left behind me. In all seriousness and as difficult as it was initially, I haven’t looked back, because I’ve been making new memories and finally enjoying my time. I’ve turned the corner and the path is clearing. Good Riddance.
I remember sun-dried metal gates, like tall desert staffs that barricaded the property. This structure appeared to be locked, as if there was no key and no accessible entrance, so I knew not to step inside. It did look familiar, but abandoned of its inhabitants. Once I realized where I was, I had absolutely No desire to continue approaching. I have zero reason to reclaim these ruins, as nothing remains for me to salvage.
I caught a glimpse of someone’s shadow shift past me, they moved swiftly as if to evade my glare. Maybe they thought I wouldn’t see them slither away? Think Again. With Hermes by my side, I possess great clarity and agility. In an instant, I sensed their presence; immense feelings of humiliation and regret. I know exactly who they are and of course I remember them, running with their tail between their legs.
I heard an echoing voice fill the air. “Guilt weighs on them wherever they go. They have done wrong and must now face all of their peers with deep shame upon their shoulders.” It looked as though they lug burdens like a sack of coal. Though the weight is entirely theirs to carry, I am simply observing. Knowing the vile serpent that they are, I reserve no remorse for them.
I turned my eyes to the corner of the sun faded gates. One of the walls had been torn down and broken storage boxes spilled all over the sidewalk. I don’t know who the boxes belong to, but I imagine their Dirty Laundry was airing. Then, I saw an ally that I recognized. They shoved debris out of the way, letting rubbish leak into the gutter. I asked, “Why are You cleaning Someone Else’s mess?” Sadly, they could not give an answer.
These snapshots felt much like vignettes, perhaps an installation gallery. I know that when I see these places, I’m not meant to touch anything, as if looking at a Crime Scene frozen in time. Outside of my visions, I haven’t had any reason to return to this place whatsoever, and why should I, after all? I continue releasing the people and events that scarred me mentally, emotionally and physically from that time.
One of the challenges that comes with healing means leaving familiarity to experience new things and explore different spaces. I imagine this series is to help me remember these Gates of Hell specifically and the demons I left behind me. In all seriousness and as difficult as it was initially, I haven’t looked back, because I’ve been making new memories and finally enjoying my time. I’ve turned the corner and the path is clearing. Good Riddance.
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