The eyes that read my mind with their critical intent (and even those unfamiliar with my text) judged my scribbles as dark and as depressing. I said "I don't care" with respect to the labyrinth of my journey - and so thoughts come and go; they are sad and happy, dark and familiar. It is a means of salvation from the dangers of self, and not for the faint of heart: "Read with Caution..."
However, the thought alone intrigued me enough to realize that there needs to be a change of page - whereby the chapter has been read and re-read and my pen should reconsider where it attains its ink. There is no room for sulking in the lanes of my memory, would it not be for amnesia that is sometimes contested with, challenging oblivion. What's done is done and what is to come shall come - this is (somewhat) out of my control.
Things are looking up.
Indeed, things ARE looking up, my friend. Favourite line, if I may extract, "There is no room for sulking in the lanes of my memory..."
ReplyDeleteYou have a friend that stands guiltily beside you in the next lane at times. Probably many. Let's continue our forward thinking, one step at a time. :D