August 11th: imagine your desire as a red knob capping a recently sharpened blade discovered in the depths of a coal mine.
In those smoky chambers, that Mars-like barnacle of “I want!” mirrors our frustrated appetites that build and boil, slowly mounting tension before Time makes them burst. In the charcoal rubble underneath the red-capped blade there lies a chocolate wrapped in gold.
Above and ahead, There’s a tree full of those sweets allowing us to glimpse the hope that traveling back above ground and grasping a realistic picture of where we are, contextualizing the pulsing demands of the hungry soul, might actually yield a decadent harvest. Alas, the nougat melting on our tongues lulls us to flabby inertia, indulging and cooing deep within the mine, and the climb to that tree feels unattainable.
But soft, and ease the pressure, for the balance between pioneering individual desire and transforming the material-moral *foundations* of this desire requires time in those hot underground caves, feeling both their sweetness and their immovable density. In easing the pressure, don’t also grow too comfortable stewing in those bowels of what you want—glimpsing the red intensity was the first step, and the tree won’t feel so far away for long.