The one true palm

- Man, I am getting older, and fast.

The lessons just keep piling up in front of me, and behind. I don't  have time to sort through them any more, to try and understand them all. I am only feeling my way through most of them, intuiting. I am like a blind man in a hall of mirrors, stumbling along. It doesn't matter what anybody else sees, what twisted comical marvels of self appear before them. I am still walking into glass walls, lost and confused. 

In the past few months I have written more unpublished posts than ever before, a new personal record. Almost every day it is the same. I sit down and write a few paragraphs. Then I'll look at them, think about the words, what they're saying... wince, then they get deleted.

The initial purpose of this site was to write open emails to my friends. I might have to revert; start writing people again, friends.

I am trying to be happy, to find happiness within myself. I know that it is there. I can often feel it moving. It is somehow tied up with a sense of self-worth and belonging. I have rediscovered one but the other lingers with the unbaptized infants, the abode of souls in limbo.

I forget who said it, about Milton's Paradise Lost, but it was something along the lines of, "Nobody ever wished it was any longer."

That's how I feel now. I am experiencing tremendous emotions, some wonderful. There is much to be derived from them. But I do not wish to endure any longer than necessary. 

Yet another voice says: ... remain calm and still, this too shall pass.

It may not even be my decision any longer, perhaps it never was. So, why worry?

Given time, our basic nature will always betray us; reveal us, I mean.

That is perhaps the danger of certain delusions, they will tell you that you are something, and then you will relay that something to others, project it to all. In time, you will even believe, making it into a kind of truth. Then, others will believe also. Then again, you are trapped by what you have done, by the delusion of you.

- Beware of false prophets! ... say all prophets. What genius… It's like a palm reader warning against other palm readers; the other ones, around the corner.

Sensible stance, that. Trust is here, not there. There lies darkness.

Iniquities abound. Count on it. Come closer dear readers and I will tell you all about them. Soon.

Though I don't want the future to arrive any sooner than necessary. This time it seems almost inevitable. To what lasting effect I do not yet know. No one does.

It is written, all there in my hand. I look down and no questions remain. Each line's course diverts, or converges, or ends. The tributaries draw back in on themselves, the freshets appear as melted and swollen granite, as the wax of life.

Who am I to question the wisdom.

.