2024-06-26 - the way the river flows |3.5|

slowly, fog thinks

slowly, slowly, sometimes it feels to be too slow. the others' minds brim and flare up with feelings, choices, declarations. they reach out and thunder across the space between them, bright and daring. fog does not feel good when it lingers on this and circles back to why it is not doing the same

but it does not want to. it swirls and churns and thinks, and all the feelings and thoughts of the others settle around it

this is one of those settlings. the others have been louder, choosing words, words that still come close to meaning the same as mother and shayled and pertemarth. come close to, but also do not mean the same. just as the thoughts of the others are clearer, bringing new senses, whole loops of thought and feeling that mean something distinct, individual

all of these things matter. better to go slow and think until it becomes clear

slowly, slowly, fog sifts through itself

She is mother, of course, and shayled, and many minds and names in quick-leaving glimpses. a solid option, to be sure. being like mother cannot go badly. He is rarer, but present in the minds that visit regularly, bright pertermarth and the one called father. there is They, appealing for the cloudy, hard to grasp feeling of it, and It, which it knows already

it would not be bad to be any of these, really. but She might not have much space left, and brims with many attached feelings and expectations. fog doesn't know what it wants to do with those. They is almost too nebulous - it could disappear within They, but would it ever come out? It is solid too, reassuring in familiarity, but it has not met any among the roving outward minds, which also makes it doubtful of the choice

He, then. it can become he, and rest there. perhaps he will become something else, eventually - but not now