Soft place to fall

Uncategorized 2 Minutes

I have been trying not to write for the last few days. I have been in a fuck it what the hell is the damn point, is it really benefiting me at all to do so. Work has been frustrating the hell out of me, I have been letting myself go, losing routines and just generally not taking care of myself. Is it the writing that is getting me in a funk or the lack of peopling. Is it, is it, is it. The lyrics of a song keep popping into my head

But I kept runnin’
For a soft place to fall
And I kept runnin’

ah that soft place to fall. that place where you feel accepted, where you can be you, where you are accepted for all your flaws. Does it really exist? or as the lyrics suggest

I was painting a picture
The picture was a painting of you and
For a moment I thought you were here
But then again, it wasn’t true, down

The picture, an Idea in your head that you so desperately want to be true. The soft place to fall, the picture you have in your head of that soft place where you can just let go, be you. hmmm. The home you want, the family, ah if life were that simple. The picture you paint is it really true?

And I was runnin’ far away
Would I run off the world someday?
Nobody knows
Nobody knows, and
I was dancing in the rain
I felt alive and I can’t complain

The illusion, I ran away to Neverland, I ran to that place where I was dancing in the rain, felt alive and really could not complain. BUT

I was listenin’ to the ocean
I saw a face in the sand
But when I picked it up
Then it vanished away from my hands, down

But then I started listening to that ocean, for a moment I saw that soft place but when I tried to grab hold of it it disappeared it vanished I tried to find it again but it was gone. The face the sand, the ocean. Neverland is an illusion. An Idea that does not stand up to the light and has no substance if you try to grab hold of it. It is a myth.

And all this time I have been lyin’
Oh, lyin’ in secret to myself
I’ve been putting sorrow on the farthest place on my shelf

Yes been lying to myself, I have put life on hold for a dream, put sorrows on the back burner, Neverland, that soft place to fall. hmmm. Neverland does not exist, it has no substance, its call is like that of the sirens of greek myth luring you to your death. The intangible lure of haunting somehow soothing melody that just draws you in and when you arrive it just sucks the life out of you.

No NeverLand is not real.

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Published by Lugh Sulian

Lugh Sulian Standing on the Ledge · Rebuilding from the Rubble Lugh Sulian is a working name for a working moment. This profile exists to hold Standing on the Ledge: Rebuilding from the Rubble—an ongoing, real-time record of what happens after collapse, when old rules stop functioning and new ones haven’t yet earned trust. This is not myth reenactment. Not spiritual bypass. Not curated healing. It’s a field journal from the threshold. The name Lugh points toward skill, clarity, and responsibility carried with awareness. Sulian gestures toward sight—what can be seen when illusion drops away and pretending becomes too expensive. Together, they frame the posture of this work: to look clearly, act deliberately, and refuse to rebuild what already failed. Through short-form video, spoken reflection, and long-form writing, this project explores: Collapse without spectacle Responsibility without authority Burnout as a systems problem, not a personal flaw Pagan cycles as lived practice, not aesthetic Small fires instead of grand rebuilds This space is intentionally unfinished. It documents: Standing still without freezing Moving forward without rushing Learning from rubble instead of hiding it Unplugged-Pagan.com serves as the grounding—seasonal awareness, ritual stripped of performance, and meaning built from experience rather than doctrine. Standing on the Ledge is one expression of that grounding, focused on the human cost of broken systems and the slow work of rebuilding integrity. This is not a teaching platform. It’s a shared watchpost. If you’re here, you’re likely between versions of yourself—tired, alert, uncertain, and still standing. You don’t need answers yet. You need honesty, boundaries, and permission to move at the speed of truth. No conclusions offered. No certainty promised. Still on the ledge. Still watching. Still working the rubble. Godspeed. Optional Short Versions (for profile headers or bios) Short bio (Facebook / site header): Threshold work. Pagan-rooted, process-driven. Documenting collapse, clarity, and the refusal to rebuild what failed.

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