¹The man on the subway - Dr. Stephen Covey
“Will you ever be free?” the man asked her.
Trying to put thoughts into words can be exhausting. Especially when thoughts and ideas seem to soar uncontrollably through the mind. It creates a feeling of unrest and uncertainty. Today's world seems to be overwhelmed with unrest and uncertainty. We focus on physicalities and materialistic aspects of our lives while neglecting the psychological and spiritual. Balance has been discarded for convenience. People have been discarded for profit. So many of us have been distracted and dependant on those misleading us granting them more power than needed. It does nothing more than allow us to be subjected to the biases of others rather being able to use our intuition to think for ourselves.
Here I am, in my life that leads, and my mind that follows; beckoning for revival. From this sorry state we have foregone, to allow such usurpers within our dominion. Where I am so very broken of the hearts that beat no more, and those that still do. For what they have seen and experienced is unimaginable, and real.
A kaleidoscope of images flows through conscious thought as I search through the years to those moments of carefree summer days of long ago. Now, as this summer winds blow I often drift back to the sublime ambiance that made those summers so memorable. The days of carefree adolescence filled with puppy love romances and adventurous escapades. It was always when summer winds started to blow off we went to Lake Geneva. Our cottage by the lake created memories so sweet and true. Even to this day with great fondness I think back and recall the friendships that were forged and the crazy stuff we did.
Every day he leads me along the paths beside the river. Every day as I make my journey, often with only him for company, I wonder if I am leading him. Perhaps we walk together, disparate creatures who possess some kind of peculiar connection; one that cannot be understood in the rational, logical world that I inhabit - a world from which I am becoming increasingly and willingly detached.
Rumor, that was what I expected of the 24/7 Diner. A place unlike any other. Only a single employee inside, always waiting for the next customer, one at a time, for every second, every minute, every hour, every day. Those that found it are few, and that is if the stories are to be believed. Some fear it, some worship it, and others despise it. It was as if the mere thought of the Diner is all it took to materialize. The locations of it have been varied, at best in the same area, at worst in a completely different continent.
“She’s in there,” I could hear them say. I’m sure their coats were white and their clipboards metal. All they could see was a broken-down woman with tears streaming down her face. Sometimes there were smiles and other times complete sadness, but I could never make a sound. Never a word. Never a gasp. I couldn’t see the white walls but I could feel the padding around me. I wished they felt more like the feathery pillows on my MaMaw’s bed that I wasn’t ever supposed to be on and less like the stiff leather seats of my dad’s old Ford Ranger, but that was only a minor inconvenience. Where I really was, was where I needed to be and there was no use for physical me anyway.
Memories fade, so do I...
Lucid Dreams are more amazing than you think...
If you could communicate with your past self, would you?