So, he's gone.

I feel like the world has changed or become more open to me. It's really a strange feeling, as if the world were an empty book and I am lying on the grass, staring up at the sky that is its pages...

It's strange, the way things have connected and seemed more real in the past few days. Even realizing, on Saturday, the reality of the light, the fact that the table seemed like a table instead of something out of memory, the fact that my mind has not wandered to legends but rather to the legends in the present, the strange beautiful reality of present moments.

I have changed, and I am the same. I'd like to say my appearance has changed, a little, in me coming into myself, but it's more of an aspect to my face and the way it all is held together; my movements are different, my way of seeing the world, my ease with it. There are still things I understand and things I don't. Far more that I now understand.

Perhaps I thank you, Mother Moon. It is as if there are answers, but they come in riddles that are not to be picked apart but rather understood as a whole, as if they come like a stream through the ground into my mind.

It seems as if my life has become its own story—not because of things added, but rather, it is now individual, with change. I can now mark the difference between my life and others', and the similarities, and feel no sadness. A great deal of happiness I've been blessed with recently. It is as if the world was just...waiting, despite anything that happened.