I have tried earnestly not to be guided by anyone’s boundaries. Even though I have probably suffered a bungload of painful oopsies maintaining that attitude…but, I have never been drug for 6 miles by a meth head driven semi truck nor have I had a pile driver pound a palate of bricks up my keester…life is still good.
I have found that when the magic of living and the wonder of natural art are right there in the center of your focus (it is a stunning occurrence), the most beneficial course of action is to listen intently to retain the soundtrack of the moment. The experience will remain a circle…intact and revolving.
I grow older and train myself to hopefully observe more acutely, I recall, through watching the naive American process, an old friend who told me a long time ago that I really can’t wake people who are pretending to be asleep. If time could grant a moment of peace to the masses sans the media and the lifetrap we buy and gnaw on so easily, we would once again recognize answers and the light supplied by the joy of hope.
As it progresses, I have discovered life to be a dashing fairy tale of a shadow that runs across the day and loses itself in the many illusive sunsets and dreadful dreams of reality until the sorrow finds a way to motivate the bones to face another round of gruesomely loving attempts to put something in order…