“I,” the vast uncharted landscape of thoughts and being.
The world one day appeared in front of me when as a child I first became aware of “me”. What cruel thing could entwine this roll a dice existence on a map called reality? From childhood to youth, middle age, and lastly to the museum of old age and death.
From the mystery skies of seeking the unknown, to the boredom
Repetition of the arthritic end game agonies…
In all this I seem to have been dancing with a crippled giant.
The crippled giant masquerading as the tyrant accuser of growing youth,
and the crippled giant whispering to me, “you have to be someone” or “something”? Oh what perfect lies came from the mouth of that crippled giant?
Of course in that torn hurting of growing, I did not know that the giant was a cripple, that vast shadow that overwhelmed me never exposed his wheelchair, and so I cowered.
How I wish I could tell the children, young men and women of the coming generation, about this imposter, this crippled giant.
The giant who says: “you have to be something” “ you must have a career!” The crippled giant of the brain police who says; “don’t think that”
My sun is now setting on my shadow lands, tomorrow the giant will wake to accuse another generation, please don’t believe or listen to him!