T here are times it feels like I am able to hear voices andthere’s no one around, and there are those times when I find myself grieving for those things and times that are gone. We all used to think things were good and would last forever when we were young. But, all of it has gone, and has crumbled to dust, with there being a strength in letting go, or learning how to live with the memories of their passage. With reality seeming to have too many heads, and some kind of things we can never fully kill; especially those things that last longer than we think they will.

Looking over at the walls of pride nearby and noticing that they are wide and high with no way to see over them to the other side, where shame was once left. And knowing that behind all things of beauty there is some kind of pain, still it’s a sad thing to stand and watch beauty decay and sadder still to watch and feel your heart be torn away.

There have been too many people to recall, and a lot of them I thought were my friends but, it seems I was wrong about most of them. As I make my way on down the line, with there being times the road is rocky and the hillsides are made out of mud. Still I will get to where I am going and that’s quite okay with me. Had a fortune teller tell me once that I would be free, and that lightning wouldn’t strike me either, she was wrong about me being truly free. For fate cast its net and liberty softly laughed as she did a slow pirouette.

Sometimes I wish I could be taken back to the start, and be pulled from the fire in order to have all start again. As I stand here with starlight in my eyes, questioning at times what is real or not, with the skies full of miracles which are mostly lies. Which has me thinking back and a line that Vonnegut wrote in Slaughterhouse five;”you think this is bad? Well I been in worse, so this ain’t so bad.” Which reminds me of those complicated shadows, and some of the other places I have been in.

Wondering if we will ever learn from our mistakes or adventures, as we make our way through this Vale of Tears known as life?

Copyright Timberwolf International LTD: November 2015 – 18