Swirling gently upon your lips, the tides are turning;
Me: Acceptance and reflection, this a space of nothing, but it is mine to understand. I do not fear myself. I fear not recognizing the way I exist. Time is one thing on my side and in this, I know how to remember. I know how to accept and I am learning how to reflect.
But I'll wake up, won't I? Or perhaps I already am awake? Living the life of a dream I can't remember.
I just think we as people both young and old need to view time differently and not indifferently.
So why should you care? Because growth is for everyone, it finds us all.
As if living has now finished and the prime of your life has blossomed, ignited, burned and slowly withered, wilting away into the sunset of life.
I haven't had a clear thought in months dear, Reader. It's been like wading through a fog, the air uneasy... like an anxious inhalation just before the sound of squelching mud. And I don't know why dear, Reader? Clarity is dangled in front of me through the opaque concept of a sabbatical. It tingles through… Continue reading Fog
Can you see that scent over the horizon? Scorched across the back of your tongue, like that first tequila of the night, what a time to be alive. I feel it, ebbing along my eyelids. REM'd flickering across the sparkly dust that dreams are made of, That shadow of light. Ahhh, There it is, inhaled.… Continue reading That time, this place.