A Lifetime of Ideas

When I was 18 ideas flashed past my consciousness too fast and fleeting to catch or even properly apprehend. At 28 I squeezed them from my mind with crayons and loud music; raw, textured notions wholly adolescent and shaped like cliche. 38 allowed no time for such nonsense. 48 finds the ideas returned though now I’m too tired and fed up to attempt to lead, and instead follow meekly wherever the sunlight moves, seeking warmth and thoughtful respite in whatever time remains.


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