It looks like a big mess, at first glance. Maybe it is a big mess but sometimes through the right eyes, maybe not. I’ve been alive forever, even here on this green and blue rock. I know I’ve been alive forever because I remember most of it. My mind is full and running over at the edges.

My new memories push out the less used ones and I reach for them as they float away on the breeze. I trace those memories back as far as I can, into the fog and the setting sun, toward midnight black and then there they fade and slip between my fingers onto what passes for paper. I fill in the gaps here and there, just for stories’ sake. Stories have an ending, like breaking free, graduating, falling in love and missing what was lost or wondering what might have been.

Stories are full of suffering and pain, joy and release. My angels guide me along the way and villains attack. I wonder why, what’s the point of it all? Will I ever know? Someday, maybe I will but how can I understand where I’m going if I can’t remember where I came from? I ask my Angels but they answer me with fond memories and cryptic dreams. They show me more than a man should know and then they wash my mind free of it, leaving me with a feeling of wonder for amazing things I cannot remember.

And after all this I continue walking a trail, coming from darkness and mist through my entire life toward my ending or back again for another go round this beautiful stone. I cannot make sense of it until I see it through and I cannot write an ending I do not know. I can only imagine.