When It’s Time To Get up, Stand up

Way back, years ago when I stood in the doorway of a small apartment and looked around, the rooms were emptied again, the furniture had all been moved out. The couches were gone, cable television was disconnected, and all the photographs from the wall had been removed. I stood here in awe of my change. I lived here. More accurately, I transformed here. My world became mine again.

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A Written Dream

I think about the places I have been to and places I have never seen. I also think of places that I’ve only dreamed of and hope to visit someday. I imagine myself elsewhere, at someplace that I’m not even sure if it truly exists.
Perhaps this place only exists to me. Or maybe I pictured this from a piece of literature, read from one of the great poets, like my favorite, Kerouac, or someone like him.
Either way, I see myself somewhere far from my usual routine and visiting an unknown crevice of the world that has not been been bordered by some man made boundary . Maybe I could be near the border, between reality and my dream. Perhaps I can see is the Gulf of Mexico from where I’d stay and the shoreline to a land of a country I know so little about.

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Operation Depression: The Path To Wellness

It seemed like I was always in a corner. As I saw it, there was always someone looking to cause me to question, “Why?
 There was always someone causing me to question myself. Meanwhile, none of this was real—at least, not as real as I seemed to believe.
Either way, the main question or should I say the only real question that I had to ask myself was a simple one, which was within me, same as the answer was within me.
I did not understand my personal blindness. I did not understand what it meant to be emotionally colorblind. But how could I? This was just the way I saw things, right?

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