I was a tiny dimple, a spot in an ever widening gap that lies, where the useless pile of broken and worn out old possessions  that deteriorate and rust in there martial shells, in the turbulent and over laden stream that was the only life i had ever known. Could the dam hold back the raging torrent of raw and unfiltered emotional expression locked away, pitted deep in my soul from so many long years of struggle and strife? Can it be done? Has the hard work fallen softly and without notice like so many feathers  blown aloft by thermally driven updrafts in the burnt heart of a sweltering death valley? The question still rings in my ears, "am i good enough?" Yet as the years pass and the knifes edge of time slowly carve their twisted branches in the canvas of skin that is draped around the glowing heart of cosmic energy which is my soul. I know that the time is short and nothing ever gets done later. I am doing it now. There is no other way, no reason to fret, just make the very best of the only life i have been given and try and see others not judge. Nature always knows what to do. All you can do is to be as good a person as you can. We have all been dead, before we were alive we were dead so that makes this life after death so enjoy it. Don’t make it worse. I think we have had enough of that already..

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