collection of faces.
I’ve been so many persons up till now. The intricacies
of seasons and the changing winds have shaped and
formed the different faces, attitudes, perspectives,
and needs. I don’t moan; I don’t mourn with my head
bowed to regrets. As the distance grows I observe and
collect conclusions into the boat as we float down and
up this river. It’s easy to get lost among the versions, the
images, the ways I was and the roads on which I’ve been;
crowded fitting room with no mirrors and the now strong
yearning for introspection. It’s a necessary sort of
reincarnation. It’s a build up in the dance of the past.
I’ve been so many persons up till now. One, to be exact.