Sometimes I think of dying. And how people would react to it. I think about the last minute and wonder if I'll know it's it. Will people be more inconvenienced than sad? Will my pain linger in them a while? How long will my memory have. . . Will I be gone in a year? Two? Have I done anything that will last? Is my curiosity about after a symptom of my now or my before? Am I already in my after and have not accepted it yet? In my deepest heart. The heart i set for only me. I'm good, I deserve happiness and I deserve the years I live. But is that truthful? Is that a life that is only alive where only I can see. .. I been thinking about dying. I think there will be more love expressed for me for just a day than has been my whole life. Sometimes I'm eager to feel it. But will I? I been thinking about dying..

I choose to see things as they are. I choose to feel the way I feel about things without old time ceremonies and rituals. To not have my life, my feelings dictated by someone or something else's standards. I want to be happy in every moment I can be happy in and I wish to do that without causing anyone else any troubles or worries. I simply wish to live in reality. To live the only life I know I'm going to have in such a way that I have more happy days than sad days. I don't care what someone thinks is "right" or "moral" or "what you're supposed to do". Is not my happiness for this short life more important? I think so. But, .. how can you become anonymous when the world seems to want you found. I often wonder if there is a very short amount of happiness in the world. So much so that ppl can't be happy unless they take yours.

Today as the leaves shadows fanned the ground. I had a thought that I felt to be so profound, that I tried to remember for a short time still, til I could scuttle some paper and ink my quil. But the wisdom flew past me all visions and thought, and no good was this fist full of paper I brought. So I paced on the lawn back and forth with eyes down. Not noticing anything, not looking around. Oh please oh please thought, come back to me. This is as a favor,I'm asking of thee. For out of all the topics I could have chose. I wanted so much to share that with The Prose

Once I was up and looking round',I thought, no way no how, could I ever get down. Such solid footing and the grip was just right, I think a levels been gained with no troubles in sight. As I let go and stepped quite softly and slow. Not trusting my vision this must be a joke. Just a bit shaky, can't believe my luck. I thought I'd been cursed, I thought I was stuck. I see a new beginning and my heart quickens pace, trying to catch up to my feet as if it's a race. And the faster I go and farther yet still, I let go of caution and and I summon my will. Is it speed that is wanted or the distance I leave, as I search for the future that's been hidden from me. And I see as I slow that the things I hold dear, the things that I cherish are no longer near. For what was I searching? And why so fast? When now all I want is somewhere in the past. I wish I had slowed down, much sooner than I did. And not put such distance between family and friends. My footing still solid. My grip is just right. To have not started running.. I'd now give my life

Home. I've always wanted to go home. Realizing I'm the last living member of what I was given as a family and unwanted by them as long as I have memories stored, I know that family in the real sense of it, I'll never have. I wanted a family so bad. To have ppl that wanted to see me coming. To have people that took my side when things went wrong for me. Ppl to give me advice truly meant for my benefit, not on how to act to appease a others family. Of course I still don't have that. But I have had the kind of life that has accepted it. And I have a wonderful family now even though in reality it's not mine. I don't have that fear for the 1st time. Then, 10 months ago they found my son dead. Something happened to me. I can feel it. I know it's there but I can't tell what it is. It's destroyed me. When I saw him laying there. I .. I'm not the same now. I want to live, laugh and love. But at the same time I don't. I lost my brother few months after. My job couple months before. My father in law passed 2 months ago and now we live in another town with my mother in law. I'm struggling. Justice was my son. My wife or anyone here never met him. So they don't know. And if I break down it'll only cause them to be upset and I'm already nothing more than a burden. I stay to myself. I make little spots in the garage or back porch to sit. If I go inside to try and have some contact with them they pause the t.v. as if I'm interrupting whatever they're watching. Even though I've mentioned that was rude and personally I would rather rewind my show in 2023 as opposed to making them feel that way. But I feel safe, for now. I hope I can neat this, whatever it is. I'll only be as valuable as what I can bring to the table. At least I know

He looks at me. Not in my eye, but he thinks he is. What does he see? Perhaps he sees the struggle of his ancestors in my strokes. Or could he see love upon my canvas? Colors familiar, yet hue unknown. I tease him. A lady has now stopped to look at me. She however is looking directly into my eyes. Can she see them? She stares as if listening to me. I tell her of violence and deviant love. She is captivated, as was my masters intent.what am I to them? A boy strolls by, and almost passes me before his peripheral tricks his fancy into thinking of things curious. I see confusion as he looks for common feature to expose my hiding place. And something more when he fails to do so. What am I? What am I to them? . I am billowing waves of August percale. Beckoning as to a child, to run through with outstretched hands so that i may touch them. I'm conflagration, a raging chaos not yet named. I am summer, Yet I am spring. In me all things ate possible, and all things denied. I am soliloquy. I am the words spoken to only you as you see me. I am your imagination. In my broad strokes. My lines seemingly undirected. My colors bold yet fluid against offended motion. I am abstract. I am different, and yet familiar to everyone