I can see clearly now.

Recovery.

That is what is feels like to me: recovery. After some random surgery; after the drugs wear off I am who I be. I feel real and awake.

The substance of David Lee is again solid.

No I am not having some metaphysical moment of zen-I just haven't taken my pain killers for 18 hours. My back is rolling in waves of pain. Like thunderous cacophony of dying sirens wailing their grief into my spine. I suffer in the moment I've chosen to make.

But that's OK.

I will not last long and have to take my next dose, but for these few hours of levity I take my leave to see things as they are. Unobstructed by the haze of perpetual lassitude that clings to my taxed mind. No, I will not last long, but life, for me, is about the little things.

Here and there; this and that.





The truth is: I will one day be free from the fog. Until then I'll keep going. A wheel to grind is a wheel to roll away.

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