A rebel without a clue.

A hell of a lot of things are coming to a head. The end of something and the beginning of something. I know what is ending: dependancy on someone who hardly sees me as I am, but who I have been. Who misunderstands me completely, but who expects me to be at a beck and call without see I do shuttle back and forth for her needs. My mother. Let me tell you about my mother... I can't. I can't be bothered about her ways, her manipulations, her insults, her negativity. To have had an angry father and a manipulative mother...

Trying to get to the new beginning I am asking myself to start, as soon as I wake up to my self, why do I persist in putting it off until an obvious date? The moment is now. Now is all there is. Waiting for what ... a date; a line in the sand which, once stepped over, I can never return to? What has never worked and, although I push and push and push, never will. The mind keeps bringing me back to the stumble and I don't see it! The opportunity of being here and now up on Chestnut Avenue and not the sitting around waiting to not be on Chestnut Avenue, in another time and space, which I can never reach?