It pains me to say that I look forward to hindsight.  That 20-20 that eats you alive.  Regret and forget instead of forgive.  Forgiveness is a skill that I hope to one day attain.  Hand-crafted like the patch on my back, this paradoxical-leaning concept takes practice and care.  One day I'll leave this place, the pain that Zoloft brings and takes away, a distant memory.  I'll take from my reflection the pieces that I like.  I'll leave behind the lag in the mirror.  How funny it is that we never actually see our own face as others do.  Simply an image or a reflection in the mirror.  We know everything that we see in spite ourselves.  To learn to forgive these lags in understanding oneself is to live.  I wish to live.  I wish to relinquish regret.  I wish to construct a life of forgiveness.

Assateague Island

Assateague Island might be a place to see stars unobstructed.  My shortness of breath might take me there sooner than I expected.  I'm alone, and the walls are closing in.  Still, my lungs are stronger than yours.  I breathe, and I see stars.  Can't keep food down.  Have to keep my voice down.  You're buried underground, and Assateague is disappearing.  Somewhere, there is an island, and someday, there will just be stars.