Waiting For The Wind To Pick Up

I am amazed . . .And more, it amazes me to see how everything changes|despite how everything is still the same.. I drove by the old house this morning.Nothing is the same and yet, not much had changed, except for meand except for the landscapes.The old bar is a deli now. I used to hide in the back of that place and sneak into the cellar.Sometimes I slept there. Mostly, I nearly died there but somehow, here I am, alive and well and able to tell you about this. There are so many things about my past which had projected and predetermined my future.And what?I know I was told . . .I was told that the future is not set.I was told that I can make something out of the moment and that if I do this, tomorrow will come with hope and yesterday will be something I can look back on and realize how pivotal our life can be. I go to that deli to remind myselfof where I used to be, which I am far away from now because I am far from the junk sicknessor the details of my young life.no0 one can bully me…