A New Path.

Once again, nighttime sounds fill my ears.

Insects, amphibians, all calling out in primal desperation. Mammals prowling in the shadows, eager for a plaything, maybe striving to hone in on potential food, perhaps only seeking an intense, revitalizing piece of ass.

Or perhaps it goes deeper. It could be that they’re hungry for something even deeper. Yearning their other half.

In any case, I won’t judge.

Pleasant numbness fills my veins. My eyes drift up to the sky just in time to spy a shooting star against tonight’s star-spangled backdrop: a brilliant streak, a tear amidst an expanse of faraway suns twinkling at me, blazing away at varying distances, shimmering as they once were at varying periods of time ago.

All three eyes of mine fixed on this, the breathtaking void of once was stretching above, around me. These visual echoes of history, of a past that is far, far gone yet omnipresent.

Spectra forever haunting. Ghosts eternally looming. Cosmic nostalgia caught like insects in amber.

A vibrant graveyard above us in hope and in warning.

The past is always present. Both a prison and gift for your choices now. All forever above you, the cosmic graveyard, where the dead tell tales, if only you listen.

Fight to break out, plow to push forward.

Yesterday need not come to define today.

I can plow a new path.