The tarp covering the sky blue, paint chipped, white wash walls of the aging swimming pool sitting lonely in the center of the overgrown garden is, as I breathe, being pulled back revealing a stagnate, boring, variety filled with, dead-bug floating leaf clingy things that are weighed down by a toxicity never to swarm the beauty of day again.
Thank God it only took half of my life to conquer this sneaky evil being siphoned out, while walls are repainted, weeds are pulled, grass mowed and flowers once hibernating beyond their due date are finally blooming larger and more magnificent than first expected.
Now, I seek what every creative craves-fire, fire to set the mind ablaze and keep it in a forward ever learning, ever maturing state of motion. Where does one start when one lives on an island of slop and has no vehicle to motor beyond the gates of toxic relativity besides the fuel that drives the soul to possess all knowledge that will repair decades of stagnation and abuse, ridicule and failure to propel this Being into the person God has always intended?
When you can see the solution but can’t see how to begin, how and where does one begin to find a true connection and select the right dots that will indeed lead forward out of and away from this hell of a circle that has been the ride?