The Marketplace Planet

At this point I’m writing for my own sanity.

I used to write to purge thoughts and ideas that haunted me night and day. That’s still true I guess, but life is more complicated than ever now. The apocalypse is slow and expensive. The future is uncertain. Is life just a never ending pursuit of finding the energy to start over?

I’ve never had a reason to forge a path to walk through. Instead, the ability to chop and change made it possible to break free from circumstance and move with the ground that shook underneath me against my will.

Eventually, unwanted noise slips through the cracks where there are supposed to be roots, where one has a source to draw from. Insomniac nights lead into amnesiac days where I remember everything by the way it feels and with a slideshow of important images collected to ensure my survival on the marketplace planet.

I stand at the precipice of a diverging path. I can go on the only way I know how to, or I can take an uncertain path of stability. Is a ‘stable path’ the stable path when you don’t know what will happen at the location you’ve set anchor? Or is it simply the trap of comfort, that old enemy of mine?

The marketplace planet is full of illusions. There is no such thing as freedom on the marketplace planet.

At this point I’m writing for my own sanity. I write so that I may know the answers to these questions. I write to determine where to go next.