I have arrived at a life fixture when my memory serves as a lamp lighting my path ahead, but shielding me from what once stood before me. Although it's behind me, my ears are lightly enticed by previous pullings that stir each cell within my body.
A simple message can be received many ways, and can then form and retranslate into something else. I can not entirely dismiss all, and I can't not entirely deny previous, for in my denial comes my restraint and within my restraint comes my utter state of the unknown.
I question the parallel's within a vertical dimension I reside in. My up has become my laying stance, and my standing upright stance has become my crouching tiger.
I further challenge myself by simply stating it is my life and I am entitled to whatever experience I render, but in my quick judgement and passive behaviors who am I answering to?
So as sleep settles over my reddened eyes, I entertain you. I wish for a different response, I even contemplate taking a guilt trip down memory lane, but absolutely not; for in this newly introduced state of happening I have no control. I will not contour this experience to suit a judging other.
"I don't want brag, but I'll be the best you EVER HAD"
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