Gnothi Seauton.. Nosce te Ipsum

Words seem scarce these days. A lot of distractions filling my head, my hands.  This is fun and that is rich, this is new and that is new again.
Sometimes I don’t talk enough and sometimes I find I am talking too much, saying nothing, filling empty space with the shape of a sound.
I’m wandering down the streets, finding nothing but dead-ends, crossroads, side streets that curve upon themselves, nothing productive, end in water.
Nothing in the water, I see my own reflection and as I watch – I see thoughts dart to the surface, tiny bubbles pop, but they are the kind you throw back anyway.
So instead I look at myself, the ripples distorting my features and I see everything ugly about myself, and I see beauty. I see them clashing.
I watch the battle in the waves, I want to wash it all away, good and bad, but as long as I am looking I will appear before me.
So I tear my sight away – I can no longer bear the sight of myself, not the bad, and not the good. I will save that for another day. I know enough for now.
I turn my eyes upwards instead, to branches waving in the breeze, and this I will watch, what mysteries will be unraveled here?
The leaves make patterns of the light, letting it in here, shielding it out there, ever shifting, nothing static, nothing ever static.
I see broken promises here, the ones I have made and the ones I have heard, I see mistakes and I do not want to look and I cannot look away.
The wind blows and there is a new pattern and I watch, but there is no more mystery here.
Another road ended. Where do I go from here? There is no map to my madness, no cryptic clues alongside the road for weary travelers.
I keep searching, for what I can not tell, for anything or maybe just contentment in the nothing.
This I have found along the path, this I have found as I was lost: all or none, and this I must not forget. All or none my love.
Gnothi Seauton inscribed on the entrance to my labyrinth, my temple. Know Thyself, said the Oracle, the crone, and so I shall continue.

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