Amor Fati

Amor fati.

The love of one’s fate.

A posture.

To live every moment as if you chose it.

The first bite and the grazed knee.

As equals.

Before I came here.

I imagine I sat down in front of a large desk.

Unfolded my life like a large map.

Flattened out the creases.

Mapped the route.

I plotted little flags across each decade.

Some green,

Some red.

I must have known what it took.

To pivot.

Duck.

Weave.

It takes a shooter with a reason.

It takes a bullet poorly shot.

To survive.

You run.

To be held.

You must be outrun.

How else.

Can you learn.

To need more than your feet.

There must be something above your head.

An everything above something.

Before I came.

I imagine I chose.

Every shade of grey.

Lukewarm tea and stale biscuits.

The first guess and the second.

There, right there - here.

Yeah.

There.

Perfect.

I imagine before I came.

I chose this couch.

It’s weak ass foam.

Bending to any suggestion.

Sinking submission, no chat.

Until left alone for a night.

To gather itself and rise again.

I imagine I knew.

That I would see a song in everything.

I imagine I,

Left a song in everything.

I think I must’ve have wanted to make sure.

That I knew.

How it feels to know.

I imagine before I came.

I was excited to come.

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I heard this song this morning and wrote the above.

Properly beautiful.

Have a lovely one my g’s x