Some times This is me.
Hiding in my cave afraid someone may notice me.
I have enough scars.
I try; I really do!
I hide in my cave afraid someone may notice me.
And sometimes this is me.
Posting my art and assorted musings.
Sharing love and joy.
Reaching out.
But more and more it’s all a farce.
A facade to feel human.
Wondering why at 75 I have not grown up.
This is all a form of meditation.
I’m wondering why people feel the need to grow up. The longer you don’t, the longer you’ll feel alive… In my mind