There it was again. Another dream about me in my other lifetime.
And there I was, small again, a kid, and afraid of the old things that used to scare me when I was too scared to defend myself.
I remembered the way things were.
And I can still smell the old smells, like my Mother’s perfume or how her bedroom used to smell from the makeup and the hairspray she used to use.
I don’t smell these things in my dreams.
But I know about them
(If that makes sense)

I remember the smell from a honeysuckle bush which was not altogether bad but nor was this memory altogether good. And, so, it would be safe to say that my childhood went missing for a while.
Safe to say that I was missing too. Or safe to say that there are still unresolved demons and unresolved memories, as well as unresolved problems which no longer exist and yes, I have unanswered questions that somehow linger in my later years. 

I suppose the ideas of doubt can be debilitating. Then again, the feelings of worry are real to me and hence, life without you is strange enough, let alone life on the fly is just life on the fly.
Or am I out of my mind again?
Am I too vague again or too crazy this morning?
I suppose I am.
But who isn’t?

It would be the same to me if you and I walked down the street and went a different way. In fact, it would be all the same to me if you and I walked away and came back to the same places we used to meet and feel like total strangers.
Yes. I agree.
The world is a strange place.

I would say that time confused us and of course, our distance from one another led us to believe that perhaps our paths were not supposed to cross
But they did cross. Our paths cross more than once, and convincingly enough, our paths seem to cross all the time. At least, that’s what I think.
I wonder about this too because I wonder if one half can wait for the other half, which a person or a soul who is waiting for their other half and yet, their other half is never destined to return.

Ah, and to you . . .
You are my greatest joy as well as my greatest and heaviest downfall. You are my temptations and my easy fix.
At the same time, nothing is easy about this, or about me or about how and who I am at the moment.
You are my drive for the feel of something better than a drug and yet, my addiction comes with more withdrawals than any other brand of so-called “medication.”
You are my fascination with beautiful relief as well as my urge for instant gratification and yes, you are a connection to all things lustful, sinful, greedy and otherwise attached to a selfish need.

You are the symptom known as, “I want what I want,” and whenever you come of whenever I see her; you know that I always want it now.
I can’t wait.
I can’t stop myself either.

Dear Regret 

You and I have known each other for as long as I can remember. In fact, i am sure that you knew me before i had the words or the language to call you my oldest friend.
That is, if you are a friend.
And let’s face it, friends to do not let friends down, or leave them alone when they’re needed the most.

You are very much a part of me as much as your other friends, like shame, blame, fault and guilt. In fact, I have decided to call you the five fingers because something happens when you get together. Something happens when we interact with blame, shame, fault, guilt and regret all at once. And I call you the five fingers because each of you represent the way our fingers ball into a fist, and this is the fist that we use to beat ourselves up with.
Blame, shame, fault, guilt, and regret . . .
The five fingers of rejective thinking.

Dear  Amends,

I know that I have to meet you halfway, or all the way, if I am going to be true to this.
I have to go all the way now, even if no one accepts me (or this) and even if I remain unforgiven, I still have to bend at the knee and be humble.
I have to do this for no other reason than to rid myself from the past and my past aggressions, intrusions and invasions can no longer have power over me.
Let the blackmailers have their day in court.
Yes. I am guilty.
I painted the door black.
I signed on the dotted line and therefore, I have to pay for what I agreed to.

Dear Angels Above

The sunrise was something different this morning. Amazing, I say.
This was beautiful, of course, which is not unlike you. But the sunrise today was different, just the same.
Maybe this was a message for me. Or maybe this was an offering of some kind.
Or maybe this was a symbol or a sign that signified a change is on the way.
At least, God, I hope so.
The weight gets too heavy now and my bones cannot always take the load or carry the weight.

I was told every day is a new beginning.
I was told this a long time ago but my mind was caught in the cobwebs of my old familiar patterns, which kept me stuck in the past and otherwise locked in a process known as “more of the same.”

Dear Devil You Know.

It is another morning and the opposition and tension is mounting. But you already knew this.
Then again, the tension is always thick enough to be cut with a knife.
I know.
There is always someone or something out there, looking to pull their tricks.
I know that it’s not just you.

I also know that this has always been another one of your tricks.
I know how you look to keep me guessing.
Or to keep me on my heels, just so i can run to you when I am afraid
. . .or uncomfortable.

I guess my question to you is where did the time go?
Where has the time gone and when did everything change?
How did we go from this to that or that to this?
I don’t know. . .
Or is this all too vague to ask you while heading to work in the morning on a westbound train?

I know.
Early to bed, early to ruse is supposed to make a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.
I do not feel any of the above at the moment.