An entry in my Journal seemed like ingredient for a poem: So...
Finally waking up from a couple of days of bizarre
Fearful depression. I suspect
I’ll never know who I am,
no how to behave.
Worrying about it is futile, it is and always will be...
Today in Literature I witness the fading of certain illusions.
in my fantasies
sometimes come into focus and it came rather closer in
of one of my little dreams. In
that little dream has faded and
I’m feeling much better and
the two are completely
Published by Bacon
Scrambled brain, one-legged, ex-biker. Highly educated folklorist. Musician (banjo, guitar, piano and anythin' else, given a bit of time), poet, writer, huntin', Shootin', fishin'. Genius of the highest order, in spite of the scrambled brain.. 'er somethin'.
View all posts by Bacon