I shouldn't be here...

People come and go all the friggin time.
Faces I fail to remember and names that escape my memory, all reduced to shadows. I show little sympathy to the dying relationships, always moving on faster to fresher hallways and coffee tables. Ebbing with the tide, reflecting that seasonal nature of Creation that permeates the very air we breathe.

It wasn't my writing...

I have used many people in my life.
Who hasn't?
This is not an excuse, but an acceptance of my part in human nature.

I'm sorry Nat, I was 17, and those were darker days.

So forgive me love...

And it's me.
Inextricably a part of and yet curiously independent from the blood of nature.
Spawn of the muddy earth merging with divine breath.
I choose and I am choosen.
I act and I react.

Here, I have reacted, by choosing
Or, I have choosen by reacting.
Either way, this is my fault.

And I will cry all afternoon.
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How the billygoat did my life end up this way?