Compartmentalizing

These years; 1984 – 1988 I shall place in Beautiful Struggle. Memories of hot, humid summer days, Winter days with ocean winds eerily cutting through my coat. Breakdancing and my Commodore 64. (Amazing what 64K of memory could accomplish!) Beautiful girls from Japan, Korea, Guam, Philippines, Taiwan, and, of course, Okinawa. Those teen years when all is known, And all is new.  Marveling that Mom and Dad finally don’t know something I know.  This box is sealed; Until next week when I look back. And then there is College. (Or should I say Collage?) That time when I ran to freedom only to realize that I don’t have an idea what is required of me.  At least I had keg parties when I got too overwhelmed.  Or just because it was Friday... Both reasons equally important. I grew and came to see the possibilities. Of what, I’m still not sure, but then it made sense.  I had my plan to conquer the world. And friends to help. This box: Darkness. So unsure and that potential being worked on.  Nights spent staring at clocks wondering; when? Empty promises to me from me for me. Because wandering at night brings fear, anticipation, confusion, and comfort; others are there with you.  you feel them there.  You hear them.  And still you are alone.  But not by yourself. This one I want to burn, But keep as a reminder. Now this vessel.  I line with cedar chips and build a casing of stainless steel.  Into it goes today, and all the todays to come.  No specifics: They aren’t memories yet so I can’t give details.  This one I will call Future.  No – Near Future.  Too close to call future; And too important to put off. Finished. Now I’ll look through that blue chest I labeled Childhood again. That one always makes me laugh – And miss Kool-Aid.I'm looking to see if I need to change the flow of this one. It says what it needs to say but I'm not sure that it should not be re-phrased in some places. Written January 21st, 2002 © on Jan 21 2002 09:52 AM PST   18 • 0 • 12