I don't want to go / I want to go

I don't want to go out anymore. 

I don't want to go out beyond the perimeter of this property.

I just want to absorb the nature of this place.

I have seen so much, and I just want to reflect.

If I stay here long enough and think through and remember, I'll be able to unravel this tangle of places and people I've encountered over the years, and put everything in order.

I'll have a complete understanding of all I've seen and done, then, if I could just take enough time here, and don't see anything else for a while. 

I only want to go out to local places, because now, I have learned that the soil seethes with history, and that stones radiate stories.

I have learned how to read history in the trees, soil, and stones, and I only want to go out to local places and read those stories, and experience the past overlaying the present.

In those moments, the curtain between the past and the present vanishes.

Nothing ever ends.

It carries on in the places around us.

I want to take the time to learn the local stories.

I want to go far-- really far.

I yearn to see the nightscapes.

The frightening nightscape spread beneath me.

I long to feel my body traveling.

I want to see so much-- comb over the whole world.

But I can't. Many factors add up so that I must stay here, and somehow...

...this flaming desire in me, the fact that I burn to see the world, is a comfort to me.