Sunday, February 6, 2011

The Bridge of Dreams

The bridge of dreams is the stuff of youthful fairy tails. When did my robust 'can do' attitude toward living begin to recede. When did I get so old. What has really changed perhaps only the clarity with which I percieve. Where my dreams just the naivite of adolescence? I requires a lifetime to carve out a proper place. My end point is Christ the Rock of my salvation but I have yet to find my thrust my proweness I am but an other. Did I get a reality check suddenly learning the true limits of my ability. Is my mediocrity boundless; my tranfigurment disfiguring? When I was young starting out everything seemed possible; life was still giving; still making room for me to make my mark. Now it seems that loss is more likely; expected even. My ordinary life has become representative of a gross neglect or complete incompetance. Sadly I am only half the woman I thought myself to be. I used to believe that I was an ego maniac with a serious inferiority complex and now I realize that I am simply inferior. I was deluded by my own concete.
To percieve the futility of ambition is growth. But is it a deranged maligancy or epiphany.

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