The distance between my burrow and the bench where I now smoke my cigarettes is a world apart. Just a few steps, yet a world apart. I was sitting on that bench and marveled at the beauty of the morning; my garden in a state of demoralized neglect, wind tossed, now still; beautiful. The fresh light on the eastern bark of bare trees. My nostalgic memories of mornings in Mexico, tell me that a peaceful satisfaction, a sense of Home, has risen in my heart......
The feeling of completion; of satisfaction with what is; of the perfection in the imperfect. All those mistakes, errors and neglects for given. Given, in a brilliant moment, the redeeming Nod of Approval by God. In that moment, I died. Died and reborn.
Who am I today? Who is it that notes the difference, that weathers the storms? Who remains unaffected by the variabilities of my mercurial emotions; the damned depression and the flips to happiness? Who remains when I wish to crawl out of my skin? Who?
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About Me
- roberto kiam borderlineartist@gmail.com
- I live in a quaint, little town, plagued with the specter of speculation and commerce. I am trailer trash,with wishes for good dishes. I shoulda died long ago, but like a rescue dog, didn't. I am indescribably scattered. I speak three languages. I walk a tenuously, true path. I am lucky. For myself, for others. God, it is said, protects orphans, widows and the innocent.
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