Get To The Point

The point of your first ten years is to celebrate your life. To feel good, you’re alive!

The point of your teen age years is to overcome the strife. Of knowing you’re alive. And learning how to suffer without crying or denying that the pain that you now feel is about to so reveal your ability to suck up pain not pass it on.

The point of twenties is to rough you up, scratch you with kindness, see how a blindness can break your toes, swallow your woes cause that’s how life goes before thirty.

The point of your thirties is to ensure your flirting with evil gets recognized and have you been baptized by the fire that you started or will the baggage you carted slow you all down some and hey, are the children all watching?

The point of your forties is to find your my lordies, your gurus and glue too’s to follow. Try every character and as you do just beware that none of them are you but forge as forties do, forge toward the glimmer, that spark that spawned between err, that place between all places and you now.

The point of your fifties is reflection, rejection of all that you were. Before you got to here. But here now you see how that time is not numbers or hands on a clock. It’s the pace of our gate and the path that we walk. It’s the times we don’t tock and that tick went unspoken and something awoke and it’s like time doesn’t matter and matter doesn’t time. It’s a time of beckoning, reckoning with right now. Like, holy cow… couldn’t something be different?!

(to be continued)

Barry Williams

Much of what I write will be quite understandable to insane folks.

The rest will be, uh, less understandable...

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