There are different types of rivers. The king of all rivers is the natural one. He is not likely to be found. It’s is very precious and only few of us, mere creatures will ever get to taste his water. However there are artificial ones as well. Humans make up the biggest one, the ones with more power, the ones who invade villages, the ones who bring us lust and death. Humans bring the rivers that we hate.
These artificial rivers are never crystal, never virgin. They are never tranquil, full of the inequalities, the jealousy, and the inferiority of people. We call this mire. Yes, the mire of artificial human rivers.
The word “mire” comes from the rives, I am sure of this. Not on the light of all the experiments; but just under a lovely desire of the flowing water that fulfills my spirits. One day, as I was slowly whispering to myself: river, river, river, river; by the end of this repetitive monologue; by the end of the aged breath and the beginning of the fresh one; I came to the realizing that this toxic breath coming out of me is what makes up the mire. All I am good for in this world well… to my understanding is just mire. Maybe I am mire.
To save myself from mire, sure enough I had to give up rivers. This is not the first time, and maybe not the last; that I accept to be a great lover of water. I am! I like spring rain in my face. I need to lover to fill me in, to share my deepest desires and only water can give you that deep feeling of being in your fullest. So I had to do a last monologue; this one neither repetitive nor easy. I had to make up my mind.
But how can they expect me to give up rivers? How can we stop the flow, how can we save the lives they take away? How can my fragile hands bear the great weight of a river coming down Everest? This is a bastard decision, which I do not want to take, not now not ever!
However, I once did make a decision. There was this one river I loved too much. Like Eve was seduced to the apple I was seduced to the river and its mire. There was a gargantuan sign, maybe left my God, or maybe just someone cautioner that I am: “If you try to wash your feet in my water, I will drown you.” So I did drown. Naivety sometimes is just bliss. I thought I heart it giving my advice; offering me new, prettier feet. I was blind, love blind. It was a river love.

Rivers continues…

Darlin K. 10:39 pm March 10th