Something about this afternoon is taking me way back to the Jesuit Residence, where a host of my memories reside along with old friends, loves and faces not that easy to fade. Reading through the past and the way others write now is making me see how far I have fallen. The thing is I can still remember the exact shade of the sun when I fell, It was a slow fall, it was falling on the side on the mountain not a drop from the sky. Pain beyond anything the name pain is given. I never really had writer's block, I realize now, I simply chose not to write. I used words and phrases like "post apocalyptic confusion", "memory" or words to that effect most of the time, to reflect my current state of mind at that time. A lot of things were scraped from me during that fall, a lot of things. Stupid fool. Stupid crazy fool. Insert smiley here.
Yes, I have picked myself up, without even realizing that fully, then also spent a considerable amount of time walking around aimlessly. Some times looking at the mountain, wondering if I should climb back up again. But I lost my way I think after that and also lost the mountain from my view. So, I just walked and found myself on a mountain, and found it to my liking. If I fall this time, it would be a straight drop down. Fatal.
This has been a lifetime ago, I have just been looking everywhere for the single major reason that took up more than fifty percent of the pie of not really writing.
So, I have come around again, even if I still listen to mostly the same songs. I will write again in the meantime, pick up where I left off. There's such a thing as transcendence.
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