“They are not long, the days of wine and roses. Out of a misty dream, our path emerges for a while, then closes, within a dream.” - Ernest Dowson. I fear the drinks no longer hold their muster, or do the pretty faces their luster. I am, and have been for some time, present at that shameful plateau, that breaths disgustingly of maturity. I find myself ready. Neither low or high, simply ready, truly ready. And for some time now, nothing in life’s great arsenal could strike me down, but yet I’m discovering, little too can raise me up. I stand at the ready! A moment where only ones’ passions can sway them, can only chip them, can only bring them to. There is a void in me. Not the pitch of despair of one lost; but the hunger of one starved of sustenance! “What excuse has a failure, who has all he needs to succeed?” - Akil N. DeBerry. None, none at all. And perhaps that is why I see all, differently… Well enough rambling, back to my writing! ^_^
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