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Starting out Fresh

i have no idea how to blog never done it before :)

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Fresh, not like the clean white linens that I like to smell as I open a pack newly bought from the store.
Fresh, like a wound that is just finished healing.
This is how I am starting, comming out from a nightmarish past and flying toward a flashing sun bright future. I can seriously almost picture all the yellows and strong oranges skimming past my eyes as I squint into what I truly hope is one hell of a story. A good story. With a great ending. But I have to get away from all the hustle and bustle of everyday life. I cant see myself getting past pains out without going somewhere quiet to think.
I get closer and closer to sick agitation as I live out this life expected of me.
Get up.
Work.
Sleep.
Get up. Work. Sleep.
The same monotoneous life every one lives and never seems to complain about. Maybe it is because of my unconventional sometimes painful upbringing that I seem to be one of the few to question the inflections crying out in my dark ragged soul. We were made for more then this. Werent we? If not, then why this itch to explore every seductive vista? Why does it kill me to stay in one place for too long?
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Comments

  1. bgood360's Avatar
    To see what's around the next bend in the trail, to see what one can see from the next hill top, to see what's at the bottom of the next ravine, to see if tomorrow can be even colder/hotter/buggier/muggier/more uncomfortable/more sublime/more/more/more than what we see right now -- all good reasons to keep moving.

    And, if it takes a grand adventure to sluff off the barnacle and burnish one's soul to a new shine, then so be it. Let others wallow in the eddies -- you take the middle of the stream and see where it sends you.