Ah yeah, can you see them out on the porch?
Yeah, but they don't wave.
I see them round the front way. Yeah.
And I know, and I know, I don't want to stay.
Make me cry...

• Pearl Jam

...I spoke too soon about the Past. It is not something that can just be released, never more to be considered. And outside of hammering myself over the head with a tack hammer or waking up in my personal fantasy of playing out a Jason Bourne thriller, it's not a realistic expectation.

No, we cannot release the Past into the great deep. It is a part of our soul—our story. But, don't confuse this acknowledgement of wins and losses as my championing setting up camp there.

No, clearly not.

There is a balance that must be achieved—that surprises no one; the key is to be ever-cognizant of it. Linear progression, situational awareness, and identity are among the challenges I face in maintaining the steadfast flame within.

When I am out of balance, I lose my peace. I am subject to the flailing imprudences and failing improvements of the INTJ shadow type. The sensate saturation fails to save.

As it relates to balance and returning things to that are critical for my existence, I return from that furlough away from my spiritual zeal. While fasting plays a significant role within my physicality: the sinews, the structures—everything that makes up this vehicle that carries me, chiefly, and I cannot emphasize this enough, fasting is first and foremost for my spirit. My soul. That which is...well, me. Plant me in my 19-year-old body, and I am there. Plant me in a 39-year-old body and see, I am there. Yes, experiences change, efficiencies change with linear progression, but me, this soul, remains "me." You look at my profile pic—an avatar, and perhaps you build a clumsy, physical representation of my soul, as if the eternal can ever be codified by clay.