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The Gift

January 28, 2012

Samuel P., Granby, MA By samwhoam, Granby, MA

The world shrinks around me, mysteries once marveled upon disappear. Forever gone in the sea of new perspective. Complications of a crazy mind, drunk with sorrow, booze, and confusion. This affects me. Also the stable, slower, reliable mind. Ever present, ready to help. Firm. But not wild. Not crazed. Fizzled out? Or simply well learned? It is my choice. Forever will be. Discontentment reeks on the shoes of the wanderer, his feet never planted long enough to feel safe. Yet does he have more fulfillment than the settler? The one who takes what he has in a simple manner and plots no revenge, thinks no fantasies? Drinks nothing stronger than sparklies? Confusion is upon me. Like a dark night it presses. My brother is not happy. Has not been. His search is ever present, his will ever turned.

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