Nomads

From the Author: "The first Greeks believed that we exist as half a being; that our other halves, the complete nature of ourselves, yearns to reconnect to a version deemed too powerful by the powers that be. The mythology explains the power of feeling connected to someone else as an essential quality of who we are, such that our other halves improve us and restore human beings to a more authentic version. Our goal is to find the other side of our soul, and we walk the earth in an...
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From the Author: "The first Greeks believed that we exist as half a being; that our other halves, the complete nature of ourselves, yearns to reconnect to a version deemed too powerful by the powers that be. The mythology explains the power of feeling connected to someone else as an essential quality of who we are, such that our other halves improve us and restore human beings to a more authentic version. Our goal is to find the other side of our soul, and we walk the earth in an attempt to do so. Love, to the ancient Greeks, was a symptom of separation.We find ourselves, again, in the course of human nature, with a case of restless feet. Wandering has again become the norm, not in terms of the city or the village, but emotionally. We are tourists; we visit emotional depth when we feel the necessity and abandon it when it's convenient. We stride toward the abyss, hand-in-hand, until it's time to jump off the edge. No, we'd rather have the other body fall first; we'd rather find the depth of the hole before giving our lives to something baseless.In spirit, there's nothing wrong with this. The philosophy of postmodernism has driven us to appeal to reason and emotion in the same vein. This is both a good and bad thing. On one end, we may argue that we avoid the worst parts of human nature by growing more to understand them, and, on the other, we may argue that it defaces something fundamentally human about ourselves. If that's the case, we can say that we're still wandering, if not indefinitely, than at least until we find a home in someone else. That home is the core to this collection.Our journey is less than celibate; it pools feelings like a damp night in August, and it coagulates them on an irregular basis. When we finally see the result, we want more, we envy the resolution to our woes without understanding it. That puts one foot in front of the other, it changes the seasons, it destroys continuity, all of it, and it propels us thusly. The feeling must, in turn, have some sort of propellant.Our rocket fuel is love; what will oxygenate the mixture is our intertwined breaths. What brings our destruction is faulty construction. Either way, the fire is still there, even when we survive in tumultuous storms and hurricanes of the heart, our fires burn. Given the option of being drowned to death by the rain drops of misery, we'd rather evaporate them before they reach us. Truly, the best part of humans, the best part of a mind that finds itself stuck between concepts, is its ability to relapse into ideas they once knew. Said ideas are childish; they bring back ideas of fairytales, princesses, princes, knights, dragons, etc. But they still drive us, even after we know the falsehood of the story.Growing up means growing inert, but these things we'll never forget, we'll never let leave us unscarred. These things are sacrosanct; they burn as a wound on our very being, a phantom limb to a long lost mutilation, the fires burning under the martyrs we constantly make ourselves.Remember the fire, and remember who carries it. Those fires light the path we walk upon when meeting the others still burning. Remember that the key to speed is light; that the key to love is fire. In these memories we find our new sources of life, and we wander indefinitely toward them; we study the paths to find home, to find a whole version of ourselves we lost eons ago. These paths are winding, sharp, jagged reminders of what it means to have something beautiful. These journeys are love, and they are the best things we do."