Tag Archives: Memories

I Remember

I remember days
when the air was so thick with lies and emotion
that it was hard to breathe
much less think.

Those were the days of summer nights
when rubber bands could never break
less the world come crashing down
and unknown disasters would annihilate me.

Those were the days of winter cold
and how the first heartbreak cracked like ice.
I just knew I would die.

Those were the days of visions,
artificial or otherwise.
It’s so easy to lose track
when you have no mind.

Those were the days of love,
as best I could perceive.
A ghost, an imperfect shadow
of what could possibly be.

Those were the days of dreams;
so elusive, so enticing.
Now realized and never lost.

we live for eternity.

© 2015 Stephen Boothe


A Little Housekeeping

I’ve changed things around a bit; I warned you that this site would evolve over time.

Nothing major, I just changed the front page and did away with Look At This. I haven’t been updating the latter and it seemed a bit stale to have the static Who Am I for the main page. So we’ll go with this for a while and see how it fits.

I’m working on an upcoming post concerning my childhood, dreams, and alternate lives. Whether it will be good reading I don’t know, but it is good for me to write it.


The Fair

I went to our local fair last night.

Truthfully, I only went because some musician friends were playing that night. I got there early so I could have time to walk around, see the sites and exhibits, and get some ‘fair’ food.

I eventually met up with some other friends and that, along with the music, was the highlight of the night. It could have been any other venue and I still would have enjoyed the company and the entertainment.

The fair itself was a different story. Walking around looking at the vendors and the exhibits, everything seemed so … not real. I know that’s not a very descriptive way of putting it but it is hard to describe how I felt. It all seemed so cheap and artificial and fake, as if everyone were putting on a show that no one longer believed in or that anyone held any real desire for. It was tired and it was sad because I remember the fair when I was young being a very different thing. It was exciting, it was fresh, and it was constantly amazing and wonderful.

After reflecting on my impressions, I wondered if it was just me. Have I changed in my adulthood to a point where new and wonderful had become faded and tawdry? Or was I finally seeing the fair for what it had been along… a glam for easily fooled children.

I still don’t know the answer to that question. Perhaps I’ll figure it out or perhaps I won’t. I do know that I do see the wonderful, I do see the amazing, and I do see the beautiful …

..every single day.

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