Between the Then and Now

A Metamorphosis

Sometimes I feel like the worst person.

Always running.

Not standing to face issue and responsibility.

I have let so many people down. And, equally, I can feel like a scared little boy — alone and abandoned.

But I am a man. And a man at some point must stop running. A man must at some point stop, turn and face the music.

A man must stand and be counted.

My life has taken such a different path. So different to what I had intended.

So I stand—unsettled as I am and naked—in front of my creator. Bare.

Is this all my life has become? Nothingness. Few scattered and incoherent memories of a youth … a youth I still cling to, lest it abandon me also.

And what is youth, and what is age? And what male and female? Ah, but what is even up and what down?

There are 77 visions in my head, and all without meaning. A meaning I once had is lost to me now. Lost all.

And I am no more.

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