The days flew but the memories did not. Another weeks starts but I still live in the past. Or maybe its the present and I am living in the future. Whatever it is, it just represents more of the same sometimes. Other times, change can drown me while others I just want to dive into anything. And then I pause, and wonder and think, and in the darkening moments of my eyelids, I wonder about what could have been.
I dont pretend to want to change, I really do want but some words and actions just put in my automatic mode, and a Sanjay appears that I wish wasnt really there. The charging bull instead of the same monk, the emotional whiner ahead of the intellectual reader. The one I see in the mirror instead of the one in my mind. Constantly, I struggle with this, and each day I begin with the glare of hope and ending in the harshness of apathy.