Sometimes, I wish I took better account of my lifeactions and the journey called me. How does one stopmidlife to recall such events,the days filled with tiredlimbs and weary eyes, long nights waiting for the timeto break free from the mundane. Even now, in the fallof these experiences I am bound by the daily routine towhich I have fought so diligently to overcome-rather,to avoid. Could it just bethe coming of age, that we’vesuccumbto gods will or that I have chosen to conformto the flow of life’s natural order-wait, that’s the samething right..?What was it all for; the feeding and growing, theeducation or lack thereof?Now what, adulthood?The chance to choose the right to vote, the ability andwisdom to use and understand the magic I oncebelieved yet decided to run; for fear that I mightactually accomplish something.What’s something; theart, which flows from thesehands given me, theseeyes that have just learned toweep or from the soul screaming within. I suppose inthis life, life itself is the realization of dreams had andvisions to come-understanding the synchronicity of allthese paths and passages like apuzzle, decipher thecodes and measures to create, what defines you.The world