Wednesday, 6 July 2011


I am at a crossroads.

Behind me, I leave a life which I had slowly built; a life where although I knew my limitations, I could work within them.

Before me now lies uncertainty and increasing disability. The future has become cloudy.

The very fabric of my reality is transforming, and I see that my ability to influence the course of many of the interwoven strands of my life’s tapestry is diminishing. Entropy is increasing, just as the laws of the universe dictate.

My sense of self, my personal identity, has been the first and greatest casualty of this transition. It has not, and could not, survive without some degree of transfiguration.
I retain the essence of who I was, who I am, but the avatar is morphing. I am reconfiguring.

My journey is no more significant or special than any other person's passage through life, yet I consider that there are some aspects of my story, whilst not unique, may nevertheless be uncommon and of interest to some.

I am at an age where most people are having and raising children, and are passing on their knowledge and experience. That will not be part of my future, but I believe that some of what I have seen, thought and done in my life may be of some small value to those whose sojourn echoes some distant similarity to my own. Or else, I wish it to feel that I am leaving behind a remnant of myself, a whisper in time, a feint afterimage, a trace element if you like, of my time on this planet. Perhaps also I feel the need to exorcise some demons, to share my views on issues and to examine themes which I now realise have permeated my life and influenced many of my choices.

In a sense, I am endeavouring to map my existence. To accomplish this, I am throwing the doors of the asylum open. I no longer feel constrained as I once did. I have slipped the straightjacket.  

Welcome to the Forest of Burning Dreams.

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