to get back homeward,

Once there was a way,

to get back home

Sleep pretty darling do not cry,

and I will sing a lullaby

Golden slumbers fill your eyes,

smiles awake you when you rise

Sleep pretty darling do not cry,

and I will sing a lullaby.... 

Boy you're gonna carry that weight,

carry that weight for a long time

Boy you're gonna carry that weight,

carry that weight for a long time...'

- Golden Slumbers (John Lennon / Paul McCartney)

The weight of the world pressed down upon me today, a tangible force that seemed to seep into my very bones. I yearned for the solace of sleep, a return to the dream realm where everything was right, where the pieces of my life fit together like a perfectly assembled puzzle. But even in slumber, I found no respite.

Tears flowed like an endless ocean, washing away the remnants of a sanctuary that was slowly crumbling. I would have given anything, sacrificed everything, to nurture the fragile seed of hope into a blooming flower. Yet, the sun's warmth faded, replaced by the chill of autumn. We were entering the cold, barren months, a season of spiritual death.

Each time I thought the tears had dried, a new wave of sorrow engulfed me, pulling me deeper into a pool of despair. Children, innocent and yet also destroyed, couldn't comprehend the emergence changes that these days would create for them. How could they, when even I struggled to understand the trials of ourselves?

Today, the Devil seemed poised to strike, to tear my heart out and crush my dreams. Yet, somewhere, in a parallel timeline, those dreams were real. I know it in my bones. Yet, still, I fear this was a long descent into madness, a delusion where I was the destroyer of worlds, and the Devil was merely here to claim its prize.

I am lost without your words, always knowing what I need to hear. Today, adrift in a sea of uncertainty. Sleep offers no escape, as even my dreams will continue to be tainted by anguish. Yohanan, God, please have mercy on me, gracious one. 

Séaghan, the universe has inflicted upon us another famine, and this symbiote hardened part of your karma no longer sees me. Why do we continue to let it, the long harsh season, prevail? My heart yearns for the simpler times of Ireland, the past lives, for your soothing songs and the lullabies that brought us peace. In those moments, I found solace, a fleeting respite from the chaos that surrounded me. I have clung to that memory in my soul, yet it also now falls away into the slumber I cannot reach. 

I feel all of this so heavily in my body today. I wish to go back to where the other world lives. I wish to go back to the timeline that all works out perfectly within. Every little piece that drops away and is washed out with the Hurricane, and an ocean of teardrops. The sanctuary that was, slowly breaking apart and I would (and have) gladly given up myself so that these seeds could grow into a beautiful flower gardem, and now the sunshine fades on them along with fall. We move into the cold months of death in so many spiritual meanings, and I can only cry. 

Everytime I think the tears have all fallen, I find myself yet again drowing in the pool that surrounds me and I can't get out. This basterized long psychosis...  what if none of it was true and in my fractured mind I know I cannot change what I have felt all along.

I don't know how to ever find or land home again. I cannot sleep because the dreams are not the reprise they once were. Write me the song, song me the lullaby, and bring us the peace that we all need and desire. 

Aho.