Enga mellom fjella: where from across the meadow, poems sing from mountains and molehills. |
me: Frosty this morn. 29º at 11. Got a photo of it. Sunny now but not exactly warm. The water will be on and off at home due to work in the street. Hanging with the old folks. For me the past is "a box of jewels and scorpions". I don't seem to have the energy nor the constitution to open it up without protective armor on. I don't know how Nada ever did it and I know ShellySunshine tries. So many others have a struggle worse than mine. I don't know. Every time I try to remember the good times the "Slasher" comes out and spoils it. I once had a life... and although it wasn't always wonderful I did accomplish something. I've tried to move on. Really! I moved to a "safe" place with nice people. I have a international circle of acquaintances that is amazing. I don't make "friends" ...but then I never did. So much hidden inside me. It gnaws. Or stings. Those jewels? Nice to look at but they aren't mine anymore. Anything good I once accomplished will have to be remembered by others. It's not like the past will ever call. 24,745 |