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. 

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