I guess you could say I love doors.
They are the ultimate mystery. When they are closed, only our imaginations can possibly conceive of what resides beyond. When they open, we enter into another world, whether it's a home, a church, a museum, an old building...a world we don't know, can't understand historically or comprehensively. That world appears before our eyes and only in that moment of revelation are we exposed to that foreign place.
I read somewhere that every scar is a door. I look at my body and see the scars, and indeed, the scar is a door to an experience, an event--an occurance that's hidden from the world, but to me, it's my world, my own private door.
The scars in our minds are the ultimate doors. Sometimes those doors remain shut, tightly sealed, and no one will ever pass through. Sometimes, not even you yourself will breach those doors. After all of the writing, poetry, and art I've created, I have only a very few of those doors left. The rest, I've opened to you and cast a spotlight inside for all to see.
So click on a door. Feel free to scroll and see what is open, and what is captured, forever closed, to you and me.
i don't think we pay enough attention
to the doors we open—
we turn the knob,
exert gentle pressure
and the rush of cool air,
humid air, or
hot, dry air hits us.
the opening just begs
to be walked through.
once we step over that threshold
there's no closing it.
we are committed.
sometimes a smile moves across our faces
as we see where we've landed;
or we are gripped with abject terror,
and the impotent, raging desire
to turn around,
slam the door shut
and never return.
but you never know
until you walk through.
it's too fucking late.
© jacw, no regrets