They are weary travelers stranded in a strange place. They can neither remember how they got there nor what their purpose is. They feel the texture of this new place in their very being; barren but not lifeless, harsh but not dead. They search through this new world looking for something to guide them, and maybe even someone to save them. They look to the next hill and past the following crevice. They know that staying still means stagnation and decay - movement is not a proposition but a necessity.
Through movement their lack of foresight becomes knowledge of the terrain they find themselves in. Progression has garnered education. Knowledge has become their power. With each step that they advance they feel their strength grow and confidence blossom. No longer do they search for a savior as they do not require saving. Self-retribution has cultivated each a master of their own circumstance.
The conquering of self is only the first step to the conquering of their own universe. To go past what belittles you extraneously can only be achieved by going past what hinders you internally first. Growth can only come from within. No step can be taken without breaking the other you. The little person sitting inside your head who tries to keep you in the same place you have always found yourself in.
Perception is but an echo reverberating back into your cranium and feeding you the same self perpetuating cycle you've always been well acquainted with. The only way out is to crawl through the darkness. Let your knees bleed. Let your toes scrape. Let the tears roll down your eyes and the salt eradicate the toxicity that you know as your lesser self.
Words by Anton P.