Thursday, April 14, 2005


Once there was a different me. Pain free. I could hear. I could see. I lived happily. Had health. Little wealth. A wife. For life? Thought so. No. Not to be. She preceded me.

Some stay. Some go. It's so. Like a picture show. They begin. They end. Descend. Fade away. Like a play. It's certain. Curtains.

Fiction a contradiction. Creative, innovative, imagination, extemporization, dramatization of possibility of reality.

Truth, an uncouth sleuth. No doubt. That's what life's all about.