My life has been a confusion of colours from brightest crimson to deepest blue. My long and ragged road meandered through collisions and confusions from bliss to despair and back again along broken tracks and stunted cul de sacs. I was a traveler in the fourth dimension, a waster of so much time. My memories are runaway trains that echo down my tracks, their songs haunt my waking hours and trouble my dreams.
I was a crooked man who walked a crooked mile – who laid his plans in sand and filled his boots with clay. Who’d build things up to fall apart, then go back to the start and do it again. I was the artless dodger; relentless in my pursuit of the shortest route, but the easy score demands an unreasonable price. I paid with the sweat of my brow, with my blood, and with my tears for the limitations of my aspirations. My horizons were obscured by smoke; my Fridays were fuelled with the illusion of hope, my Mondays were filled with disillusionment and left me strung out on the wire – I always did all my own stunts. So raise a glass to those moments bereft of all meaning – the endless procession of waking hours that constitute a life devoid of inspiration.
My glass houses made easy targets for stoners and judges and I was smashed more often than not. But life is a great teacher I used to think my freedom was mine to take – now I know my freedom is mine to give. The shifting tides, the oceans wake, cast ripples through the lives of many who touch concentrically; wheels inside wheels orbiting coincidently around hidden stars. Each has left, for good or ill, an imprint on my heart. Of all these rogue satellites one star that burns brighter than all the rest beckons me home to her loving arms and peace at last.