Adam stands apart from all of the other juvenile entities surrounding him. Starting from his toes, every inch of his outstretched skin maps out another dissimilar detail. One can only truly understand his workings that live with him, every instant of every day. It is when one learns to inhale him, to take in every aroma; when one learns to not only trace his flaws with a fingertip, but to endure every little crack and crook and corner. His nascent impressions are falsely arrogant, subtly mysterious. Even adopting the mind of a philosopher will not bring one closer to his truth; his beauty never ceases to deceive his truth. But he is young, he is still naïve, and Adam still learns about himself… regardless of the surrounding entities.
In summer Adam blossoms. He is unabridged; he is pregnant with life and movement. His capacity has been reached but his licking flame of excitement never ceases to die out. Still upholding his intimidation, he manages to lure in all those who dare wander through his enchanting eves. Up and down the arteriolar alleys, across the veiny canals, his blood rushes ever so fast in the throbbing heat of the sun. Flowing rapidly it comes as a rush of blood to his heart, the heart of all hearts. Opening the harbor of his love, his pumping organ reaches a sea of mystery. The unknown, the seas that even the most fearless of sailors stand before in awe, Adam laughs at bravely. He rides their waves with vigor, allowing every tourist of his “arrogance” be fooled yet again. As the waves subside, he emerges from his home to meet the eve, and lets her drift him into a smooth descent.
Autumn comes as a depression for Adam. The freedom leaves his heart, and sinks down into his stomach. Routine resets his heart rate to 80 beats per minute. The colors changing and slowly peeling themselves off of his soft summer body, Adam loses the keratin power that his insides crave. This is not the time for Adam to search for betterment; the only thing that lies ahead of his deterioration is a harsh winter. Keeping up his hope, as he does oh-so-well, any last blow of energy is released powerfully. He sings, serenades, and charms. Falling at his feet one by one, he dismisses all those not driven enough to steer him through the seemingly endless cold that awaits him. Eves grow icier and harsher; life reaches out to purposely get its hand stuck in the closing door, aiming to save every last bit of a nostalgic summer through the boastfully changing leafs. And before Adam knows it, winter is biting at his fingertips and toes. Icing his heart in its place, he manages to fight through alone - but not this time.
Winter is a time for lovers in Adam’s growing eyes. He has learned from his youth that discovering one’s self can only be done through discovering others. The map of Adam’s body is coated by the thinnest membrane of frost; waiting to be unveiled by a warm eve. One will later find out that, with a little bit of patience, under the layer of frost, the map can be traced in all its mysteriousness. In an eve, Adam finds the warmth to melt the ice around his heart of all hearts. The center, the liveliest part, the Earth’s inner core. In discovering his true layer, one is enchanted by something magical in Adam. He too, pushes forward to a blossoming season of spring: that of lust, that of life, and that of rejuvenation.
It is said that one’s soul rests in one’s mind. For Adam however, the soul lies underneath his body’s tree of life. The pulsating tree, growing 52 meters in height, regenerates youth. Just as all spring animals Adam goes through a transition, with his Eve, without his Eve, in and out. Around the tree lies a marketplace where all goods may be sold and traded. But Adam, keeping his selfish ways, refuses to share these goods in return for something impossibly “better”. True to his word, to his mind, he lets only the greatest of respect into the marketplace – leaving no trace of injustice or imbalance. With the light-heartedness that Adam carries throughout spring, his transitions seem effortless. His glow returns, his life is back, but one thing has changed. The glow comes back stronger this time, almost tangible. If only one could reach out and touch it, would it shimmer and explode. It is the season of love, dear Adam. And with this he drifts back into his niche, his sea of unexplored madness, carrying the Eve in her different eves to warmth and freedom.