There’s been a tune running through my mind. I think it’s called life. There’s some days when the notes are all I can ask for. A blue spruce rising above me as I walk by. The air rasping in and out of my lungs, especially when it is cold. The flood of emotion after I’ve seen a great film or read a good book. People that come in. That’s when the song is good.

Then comes the cacophony of acting out, the images of pain and control. The excitement at the abuse of others. The desperate grasping at the control these images give the illusion of giving. Then the song becomes grating and discordant, playing a circle of repetition in my head, and it feels like I went through a cheese grater.

Then comes the attempt to pick up the tune again. A melody of light that is full of others smiles. How long will it last this time before the light forces me to look inside. When I do that I inevitably hide in the ugly song.

I don’t want to hide anymore. I want to stand in the middle of the street and sing light/love. Next time I have to break the descent into that tune that only makes me punish my self. Cause that’s all I am doing.