What still grows in winter? The tears from my aching emotions. When does this end? Is this what unconditional love is? Is that what I am being shown as such a feeler? Is this spirit’s way of showing unconditional love through the pain of sadness and torture? The heart space feels empty. Iboga showed me that. And yet— there is this knowing pull into the earth, passed down into the roots of what we deem as hell. Our perspective hell is what peels away the layers like a freshly bought phone case. That Big Bang moment when Raj & Howard share their devotion to the peel— inch by inch— knowing the new will be no more. This new device will now be theirs. Tainted with day-to-day living. What happens now? Nobody knows. Not even I. But for those three seconds of peeling lust, I will suffer my winter.
Inspired by Beth Kempton’s 2025 Winter Sanctuary: EvergreenOliver Baez Bendorf
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