it seems that in an overly loud and busy world, i am constantly holding back my sometimes rash social commentary; trying my best to be optimistic and enjoyable to be around. so life dances on, bounce bounce bounce… and thing seem ok. which, they are…because, well….we’re here aren’t we? i mean, even in the worst of times….we still…are. i just feel that constant weight….not nessicarily a ball and chain so to speak, but a pack i choose to wear. a survival kit…heavy things that mean so much to me. but, that really only weigh me down…why do i feel the need to overpack? why do i insist on using nothing i pack for myself? Im learning to down size. but…. my back hurts sometimes. but….. it used to hurt all the time. words help. good memories help. but….. the faith i have in new memories, binds me to earth….keeps me breathing, laughing….moving. the good weight at the end of a balloon…pulled constantly to and fro by the Great Perhaps. its her. i am i. and life is better than any dream.