A forked tongue tickles a miasmic atmosphere. Sense of sight succumbs solemnly. A necessary evolution where the serpent surpasses it's own strangling skin, a moment of molting. Where it was once clear this world is now clouded. An important stock to take note of in the face of vicissitude, No permutation is permanent. We evolve beyond even our own skin growing and amalgamating into and beyond others. Running from our problems will ensure that we remain asphyxiated by them. Moving toward a solution is a far better race to run than flying from plight.
There is necessity in the the act of dissolving of decaying and allowing the cycle of life to coagulate us once more. I new version of our self constructed of all of its previous pieces and parts. An ability suddenly presents itself to abandon the segments that have for some time caused a dissatisfying dissidence. In our reformation we are free to become all what we desire and shed all that shames. We remove the scars of old skin and show the world our most brilliant scales. A vibrant vehemence, visually vivacious and violently vituperous reincarnation of mind, body and soul. This is the natural order of life. Those who fight it are doomed to remain in the state of pre molting blindness, slaves to their own apprehension, prisoners to their own skin.
Does the caterpillar know it's destiny, does it know that flight is in it's future?
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