RoadBlock

There is something to be said about roadblocks and my life. The minute I hope and think that I will manage a way to careen off the pothole and just in nick of time, I find myself deep in muck. You climb out of a ditch hoping that it will be okay the next time, that maybe this will be the last and the next pothole will come a lot further down the road. But no sir that is now how it is supposed to happen I guess, its like a series of potholes, sewn together at seams. Like those on a perforated strip.

Most of my posts seem to be in a similar vein, I wish I could write lighter, happier posts. At the moment tho, I cant seem to bring myself to do that, or do anything for that matter. It doesn't do well to dwell on the past and forget everything else I know, but when your past seems to haunt your present? When recurrent memories seem to repeat themselves in present for some reason, aren't you supposed to talk about it? Think about it?

Right now I imagine myself in a small little drive in restaurant, serving people the day's best - apple pie in some long forgotten town. One of those small places you see in many of these hollywood movies. I would be very content with that kind of a lifestyle, going back home with a porch and a forest at the back, sitting with a mug of coffee and hearing the crickets, as the moon glides across the sky. A small isolated almost content life. Would it really be too much to ask for?