Days of pastel blues and lusterless reds could fill the inevasible blind pages to come. I have seen the splendor of my own antecedence, or rather the privation there of. Once bound in a twirl of youthful folly now I marvel, can they not see? I think they too, as I once, choose drunkenly, willfully to be ensnared by the false comfort of never‑ending youth; the pervasive, there will be time.
Though I have traveled many roads and stumbled on paths bleak, yet onward I plod; defiant, I stand in the face of waning possibilities. Though it may seem as brackish waters to the weak of spirit, nevertheless, I thrive. I have decided to dominate that which lies waste. Failure, you shall not take me!
I swim in a sea of spring-tide, the deep brims with life about me, yet I find Continue reading