The Promised Land

Never lose sight of how it could’ve been. 

19/6/2021 

Strange Days  

Always 

Angels and Demons 

Push and pull 

Good men ruined 

By addiction 

Depression 

Mediocrity 

Deep in thought 

I remember to be 

Just happy to be 

A free man 

With a job 

With a place 

And a few good friends 

I bought records today 

Imagine the luxury 

Compared to cinder block walls 

Compared to headaches 

Bad food, fire alarms, violence 

Strange Days 

Always 

Myriad choices 

Every decision resonates 

For days, weeks, years, 

Try to have more good news than bad 

And everything worth doing 

Takes five years to master 

So as always 

I knuckle down 

To the task at hand 

And wait to find the promised land 

Or maybe, just maybe, for the promised land to find me 

—-

Sincere apologies to my readers for going off the grid for so long without an explanation. I started a new job, was studying by night and was in a bit of a depressive rut.  

I’ve started writing again and intend to start posting on a regular basis. 

I have to remind myself when I’m a little depressed that not that long ago I was doing it so much tougher. I’ve been collecting records and have my own car, place and job so in a lot of ways things are actually pretty awesome. Always room for improvement but things could be so much worse.  

Gratitude in all things, let me never lose sight of how it could’ve been.