From the Files: 2023

This day has not been hard.
This day I remembered that emptiness was not a negative, but was something to accept and pass through. 
This day I could have stayed at the Domain longer and wandered, climbed the hill, but I chose the return instead. 
This day I ate enough without overeating. 
This day I felt alone. 
This day I accepted what I achieved. 
This day I cooked for myself. 
This day I chose, and the choices I made were all mine. 

Do I worry that there is no dream left? Do I care not to dream any more? Dreams are for the young. 
This life, 
                this life,
                                this life, 
                                                this realness, 
                                                                       this existence, 
this escapable amount of choices. All the ends piled up high as I walk on by, ignoring the jeering, the laughing, the reminding.
I have only this, 
This I only have.
That is what I gave, 
This is what I give. 
I give. 
Some accept.
Some forget.
Some have nothing to return. 

I follow the darkness. Lead me to sleep. In this sleep with me we may find the dream, where everything is false and nothing is permitted, and love is the albatross around the neck reckoning upon the sodden boards of salty sea spray. In this dream you will garner the flowers, find the wreath to don and exclaim your kingdom with hordes of drums thrombling your songs.

When we wake, together in tandem, breath will be for keeping, light will beg the asking, and sound will whisper the sanctity of forgotten tunes. 
So it was. 
So it shall be.

• 08/10/23