Cycles

“Let me forget about today until tomorrow”; I play and replay that track, solely for the utterance of that line. An all-immersing glorious three second quelling. With the last word, that encompassing insurmountable wall of solitude reappears and I wonder about the gift and burden of vitality. From birth, unwittingly plunged into a world of false opposites it appeared so simple. Black remained just that. How does one prepare for that watershed day when one questions and out of that infallibly logical brain, come answers of a ghost-like shade of grey?

Spanish horizons draw closer and yet they are abstract. I know the format of the thoughts that drift into focus. Why would I leave those that I love? What is this searching, this need of the unknown? Surely exotic dreams are only that, and it feels such a gamble.

Saturated; I can’t listen to the song again. Reflecting a final time on leaving, saying the word “Spain” in my head, not all is righted; but however small the spark may be, its still being there tells me that I am going.