You’ve heard it all before
It has become a
refrain, the monotony of a shrill choral piece ringing in the air that the
haunting sound of the wind rustling the leaves of the willow tree in the
cemetery at the edge of town.
Strange beds and
funny pillows, stranger faces with smiles that reshape the face but have no
heart in them, a constant wandering like a nomad in the desert with no paths to
follow, no known watering holes, stumbling upon oases big and small but the
journey must continue due north to the place where hope becomes reality.
He has fought to
live and struggled not to die, but each respite is just like the catching of
breath in the swirling turbulent seas where the strength to swim and stay
afloat is slowly ebbing away – he is desperately hoping for a rescue or waiting
for the last time when the eyes close, the life he has lived swiftly flashes by
for one last memory of the best times to depart as if fulfilled.
Thriving well comes
from the release of the potential, but the potential must have a place, a
platform, a constant, a haven, maybe a shelter from where to launch, however,
the refrain of instability is affecting the ability to concentrate causing much
disruption in the quest for some progress.
Surrounded by
storms, one needs shelter, the roaring thunderclaps of means and lack leaves one
only stealing sleep whilst one must yet be agile and ready to employ the brain
to capacity in finding the first rung of the ladder out of this quagmire.
I need a couch, a
roof over my head, a place to plan, some space to think, the means to link and
the chance to start all over again – I am well able, but I cannot do much if I
don’t have some stability.
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