Memorial Day

  What is there to write?  I haven’t written in a long while, that is true.  But I can promise that it has nothing to do with any personal decline.  I have learned that it can only be what you make it, this journey that is life.   I don’t doubt life is certainly just that, a journey.  And it strikes me with a sad yet somehow amusing irony, when I think about how all that remains constant in life is the guarantee that it will change.  

  I once embraced this concept but for a while there I wanted to settle down, finally.  But home is a place that I may not find anytime soon.  I don‘t think that it is in the cards.  The only home I may find is in writing, writing while remaining on the move.  Hopefully by now, on Memorial Day, I am far enough out of the shadows to recommence that great vocation and translate all that I’ve seen in the time passed, while keeping a keen eye on what lie ahead.

  That is all there is with that.  At least for today.  On the other hand, it might all just be a big joke.  Haha.

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