The Musings on getting older.

It seems almost impossible to have a decent conversation with people. You have the friends who smile but the vacant eyes give away the inability to stretch their brain. I have said for years that we are put on this Earth to find the best we can be, this could be an artist, a musician, a sculptor, entertainer and then the ability to transform wood into a work of art, doctors of all sorts that should enable us to live on while we pursue loftier works. A conversation with family is fraught with trap doors where you might say the wrong thing or destroy some childhood delusion. I would like it if we all reached upward to the highest level of humanity. I become desolate when I think of people who only seem to plunge into the depths of a depraved society. Please, people, reach for the light, be the light and ferret out the darkness and depravity in this world.

February 2, 2018

“You must constantly ask yourself these questions: Who am I around? What are they doing to me? What have they got me reading? What have they got me saying? Where do they have me going? What do they have me thinking? And most important, what do they have me becoming?
Then ask yourself the big question: Is that okay?”

~Jim Rohn

Quote on the pain of PTSD

Really bad days lead to really bad months that go on for over a year than ten years and then give you PTSD, no choice, it comes on its own and works its way to your shaky knees and quivering heart pounding in fear and the shame seeping into your brain while you feel you are actually glued to one spot You cannot move but you have to find a way to suck those feet up off the ground and place one foot in front of another.., carrying on a day at a time and filled with grief with nowhere to go and cry it out to perhaps the River where no one could hearts pain.

The river absorbed the tears of pain, betrayal, frustration, slowly the heart started to slow, the noise of others on the trail above meant I must once again freeze my face, my feelings and find my way home. The piece of glass slowly slips from my hand and returns to the path with long sleeves that try to hide the pale attempt.

Taking you up in time-worn hands amid the stream of life’s old lands. Forevermore you’re safe within, away from Earth’s eternal din.