It's not getting better. As the days roll on everything is getting poorer, harder to deal with. I've spent so much time getting nowhere, it's unbelievable. Is it possible to wait for something to come along that's ripe for your experience, attitudes, or talents? Must you make your own opportunities? What of the rest, the lack of material control. Is it possible to evoke a higher power through simple duties which physically manifest themselves and their results in a way to put it all into a Goddess' hands?
March of time
trampling again
making rhyme
beginning to end,
the absence of sense
in between,
makes the fear intense,
and the relief serene.
I need a route of escape,
I need to hide
from the great hidden rape
of my self and my pride.
On Xmas of 1992 my brother gave me this journal made of recycled paper with a twig pencil. I eventually filled it up sporadically up to 1995. I dug it out, dusted it off, and started looking through it today, May 6th, 2013. I've decided to reproduce the posts online. It's raw and sure to be embarrassing, but I feel enough time has passed that I can distance myself, yet find a very familiar me within these lines and perhaps find the inspiration to take up the pen again..... Thanks, big Bro.
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