entelechy

 

 

Off the grid, off line – friends thought her psychosis was back, the actions were so similar. Time to take her to the hospital while her writing was still legible. Before it turned into scribbles and symbols.

But she just laughed – they didn’t see the massive Saurian, feel his entelechy. He helped leak the human from her head. Fuel the path she should take through the woods. Elevate her to the next level.

But, they would jerk her back to human, out of the forest, into their world.

Run, or you will never know for sure. Run. Her heart said and her spirit echoed. Run.

 

A combination of two Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie’s challenges: Wordles and Photo.

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5 thoughts on “entelechy

  1. Very interesting writing, and I think it goes so well with the picture. I think you managed to give me the fantastical, science fiction vibe, in so little words, but powerful. I was left cheering, also yelling Run, run, run!

    Like

  2. wildchild47 says:

    Well done and written.

    funny thing, I can’t remember when, but it was some time ago (as in years) – I read several pieces where those who are more of the new age bend and who were from a mixed “work background” were mentioning how sad and tragic it is when those who truly don’t need medication are medicated to the nines, because they have been improperly diagnosed with medical/mental illness X – when in fact, if a more holistic and alternative approach were to be considered, alongside more conventional treatments, then the results would be far more beneficial. And I remember reading about the really high percentage rate, which of course I can’t remember now, of “less than desirable and successful outcomes” – in short, too many people being misdiagnosed and over and wrongly medicated, when in effect, it is entirely possible they are part of the “latest new age wave of transitioning” people.

    right, so now I sound loopy and should be locked up

    but your piece just brought this to mind – as I sit and wonder and think on things

    Like

the time has come, the walrus said, to talk of many things . . .

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