When Asked What I was Thinking

When asked what I was thinking, I simply said a girl.
I was asked what I was thinking because the thought was already presumed.
I was not thinking of sex, which now aligns with the thought of a girl, but should not because the two thoughts are separate: the book and scattered passages.

And then I wanted to be everything; to force my ambitions upon the levy that contained them; to flow freely, engulf, to absorb and be absorbed.
My mind battled and eased like the bloodiest civil war and the casualties were high and the dead were not buried but left to be viewed as a reminder before calm was realized. Battles were opportunities for eminence and glory but calm was practical and once achieved--really achieved--revealed the truth about eminence and glory: that they were not needed.

What was necessary, with calm, grew smaller and smaller.
Guns were cast aside and armor shed. Smaller they grew.
And, again, I wanted to release my ambitions and so I opened a small, wooden gate and out he walked.
He went first to the fields where the dead lay and plunged a spade into the hard earth. He quietly dug a grave for each body and laid them to rest.
And once completed he continued on ahead.

It was neither light nor dark but overcast like first days of autumn with ominous tones of grey in the sky and the feeling, but not the color itself, of red.
He continued on ahead.
As he grew closer it grew darker but he did not fear the dark.
And when he could go straight no further, he went up.
The mountain does not occlude, the mountain is the path.
The mountain does not occlude.

As he climbed higher it grew lighter but he did not fear the light.
Steady hands, thoughtless, dancing with a partner that embodied perfection.
He could not match perfection; he could only stay the line.
Don't let the battle start again; this is not a fight.
"If I cannot reach the firmament, let me die in its pursuit."

When asked what I was thinking, I simply said a girl.