Peering through the mists I see the humans and their existence. Each twirling in smokes screens of their own making.
I feel like the 101st surrounded at Bastogne. The difference is armor is not coming.
Another one of my evaluation and time for action moments.
Thoughts of do you really continue to hold on to those people and things that seem to fight the future and remain an issue? Life and time have their own twists and turns. Leaving results to deal with.
The older I get. The more that defining line in the sand shortens. Becoming increasingly closer and closer to me. Tolerance constantly deleted. The vale being left a field of corpses.
I turn looking at from where I came. Looking forward to see what may be left. Each moment lived to the fullest while tactically open involvement.
Question in this is: Will I merely become even more severely detached?
We shall see.
We shall see.
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