"These things become forgotten
in time."
I'm beginning to think that's
a lie,
and all those bad decisions
and experiences
are still there in
the attic.
Better yet, the addict's
basement.
Brewing inside a personalized, self-
righteous cauldron.
Down there is where the devil plays and
orchestrates too.
Until one day you
discover his existence,
the Wizard of Oz,
and invite him inside for
a beer
with you and the rest of
your characters.
Or one day he succeeds. "But
I meant so well,"
you'll say, "why does the Lord smite me?"
And if your actions were orchestrated
by the devil,
and he succeeded in blinding you
from true motives,
who's at fault?
Certainly, it can't be you, you
were unaware.
Under a spell, you drank the potion
of self, thought you controlled
the horse, commanding
where it goes with your whip of
purpose and reason
when the horse
goes where it wants.
YOU ARE READING
graphic art
Poetry"If one does not understand a person, one tends to regard him as a fool." - Carl Jung
