It is hard to live with what has.....?

I sit with elbows on my knees and my chin on my fist, waiting for my thoughts to break and release my mind from its harvest of desires, intentions and regrets. In a struggle for endless acceptance for all that I could have done. I search for the complex end to quench my thirst for the code of this bitterness. If I could untangle what has happened, if I could undo the damage, as the wreckage entangles me like a yoke. You can imprison yourself within the confines of pain, in its self, you can not break-free of the Dragons claws that pinch you into the earth. No metal is needed to form the realestate of inability, no watch is governed for those that can't reach out. There is no addiction when taken into account the desire for motionless dignity, they look content, beneath the surface of consciousness. I have now, what I have always desired while I was young and overworked, time, space and exhaustive sleep, all that while complaining. In the shortness of time I have found the abundance of endless nothing in the constant, inseparable moments. As a child I wanted to learn, and I found the failures that would better me were the successes that would compell me to except the brush across my face. I proudly stood by the mess I made and stared at the right words cursed. I listened quietly, never letting go of the very brush crushed in my hand as my little fingers cracked, I never let go of that brush. I have painted for some of the most influential people in the world, but can't form the mindset to paint for myself today. I remember angrily ripping up a basket full of old work that I was once so proud of and cursing that which I was, who was I that wanted my old work, years of old work? I can not do what I have done before and am not as I was, why should it be here to remind me of what should have been? I regret that immature moment of time, but regret those beginnings to, I call them beginnings, since those beginnings have an end, before my time. It is hard to live with what has ..... ?

Is there a way back?

This has been a long week for us since I don't get outside enough, this last 2 weeks we've spent most of the time in the house. I really want a balcony, but this wonderful apartment that has an eagle's eye view of the city from sunrises that crest the downtown highrises in the bedrooms to the sunsets over old Avenues from in the living-room. This place has no balcony to sit on for our breakfast and since I really like coffee and would really love to have it on the balcony through-out the day. I look from my window and see all the little patio tables outside on the corner with all the pretty, fashionable people sipping their espresso and all the energy from those walking from the University or from the hospital. Everyone seems so strong and healthy with such drive that I feel pulled by their energies. I fight the urge to mix with them and since, I am not one of them, all I can do is witness, want and dream. Those days are over for me and probably will never be for my son either and its hard to want to be a part of the present on the breaths of the past. I have found great adventures in my dreams, like rewalking the past, its very easy to do, with slow deep breathing and directing your thoughts to your past. I can walk the streets of Croatia again, the open markets in Milan or by the cafe's of Paris or the pearl farms of Tokyo. I miss the sweet butterscotch candy I ate in Ireland and the hot roasted peanuts in NewYork, Old Montreal theatres and the parks of Shaboogamoo or even just simple Banff are in reach this way. Am I going crazy? Is there a way back?