Traveling deep into the earth feels a little clastrophobic. A one-person elevator to the core. But that elevator soon loses its shape and so do you. Below hell is the earth's core, that boiling centre. Seed of life, creater of the soil we walk on. It spin and boils, a red hot mystery that somehow holds it all together.
And I travel further into the jungle, dark and humid. Slowly, I lose that whole thinking thing. Those thoughts. The logic. Gone. Clothes ripped, body exposed. I am focused on going deeper, finding out the truth that lies within. I want to slather it in reason but it doesn't stick. I have to trust my instincts somehow. I don't quite know what the fuck is going on. But somehow the rhythm of my steps keeps me company, with hard breaths. Sweat pouring down my face feels normal, comfortable in my body, letting it pour out. I don't care who you are, I'm going into this fierce jungle to discover the inside and find more of myself in the pattering rain on strong green leaves.