from a memorable Friday, September 19, 2008
Go back ? You might ask. And why would I want to do that ? You may not. But those are doors you can't afford to close. And I. Am the story teller. So sit back because you still can and listen to my words. they'll dog you down the valley floor as you sail your ship past swaying seas, but never on them. Non. Watch those mountains float past your window and be thankful they aren't yours to climb. Anymore.
Were they once ? You want to ask, but that is not mine to tell you. It is not yours to know, if you don't already.
New clouds sprinkle the sky with their thoughts. One at a time, popping, they flicker like candles in the wind. But they never go out. Instead they build, with each gust of a breeze they grow stronger and more omniscient until you think they might pop on your ship. But they wait. Because this is not your weather to endure, better things will come to you and like the mountains they are not yours.
There is no sun on your horizon. Bleak shadows encroach on your ship. But fear doesn't strike you because there isn't anything to fear. You believe, like the others, that this too isn't your battle to wage.
You are wrong.
You sit with a smile, one leg bent, your knee to the sky. your foot falling on deaf ground. No one is here to whisper your name, to pull you back from the depths of hell that so certainly you will face. No one is here because you left them all behind. You stepped away from the only ones who loved you and now you will suffer this alone. No mountain was yours to climb, no storm yours to endure, because what comes to you now is far worse than any nightmare you might face in your dreams. But this is no dream and I am just the storyteller. This is where we part.
This, is where I bid you farewell. "