Through heaven and hell, success and sin, you lay adrift as if the day is done, although there is no rest for the wicked, and surely you are no saint. “Escaping” is really just a different term for “staying.” For when is the last time you truly escaped your problems—or have they not simply stuck with you? We often think others are the source of our issues, that surely we are not the problem; however, in all of our trifles, what or who is the isolated variable—the constant? What is it that seems to stay the same when everything else is changing?
Let this breath be your last, let it only exist in the past, and breathe once more. In essence, everything that you touch turns to what you once considered to be your wildest dreams—gold—but now that you live in your dream all you want to do is wake up.
What value do gold and dreams have if they destroy their referent? We may dream of sunny days to come, but what would be the purpose of the golden sunshine—that is, the Midas touch—if we had to bear 24 hours of non-stop sun?
Where the road bends, and when the trail ends, let this breath be your last. Perhaps you would like it better if you could take a swing at those who have robbed you of your gold, so pull back and let your arms sway one direction and then the next.
But do you really want the Midas touch? When ye olde Midas lay starving to death, damned by his own successful wish, was he finally sick of the sunshine, or did he wish for one last breath?
Surrounded by apparent sin we all too often tend to think of ourselves as the saint; however, it is only through our narrative that we may see it that way. In denying this, we might want to escape to a sunshine-filled land, but we must be reminded of the age-old adage: wherever you go, there you are.
What is gold? Why do you wish for something and believe it will end your cursed days of poverty? Shiny rocks and sun-filled days are contrasted by wills, wishes, and becoming that never become anything, as we are surrounded by endless things that have already become and that we no longer wish to be any longer.
Gold, jewels, and diamonds are rocks—need we say more? Turning things into gold would be just as useless as turning things into zeros and commas—we would starve. So how hungry are you?