Friday, August 11, 2006


Journal dated August 8th, 2003

Phillip struggled to forget a past that at every instant became his future. The swans dipped low onto the lake beside him stopping to drink from their reflection. Their beaks pierced the soft warped mirage. Noonday clouds hushed across the sky in slow step towards vanishing. He reached to the sky and grabbed a puff of cloud and held it timidly in his hand. Outstretched towards the birds for food, this young man sought to find god with his offering. A young duck that lacked the beauty of the swans waddled to his bench. It was too late. The piece of cloud vanished into nothing and its hunger would not be forgotten…

…A day ago I took my hand inside my pocket for warmth on my way to the church. How could I forget it all? I only needed to forgive it, but I did not see how the two were any different. Their repugnance mortified me at first thought. I cannot fathom how I could ever forgive these transgressions without erasing them from my memory; they were enough to hold me from leaping across the divide. For I knew I’d never be the person I wanted if I carried them with me. Unfortunately that is the only way. It is destined for me to forget; yet it is not my past that will drown in the waters of Lethe, but the future that I have always dreamed of finding. Room must be made for the other destiny that I have always dreaded.

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