Ever feel like your life is spiraling beyond any hope of management?
That everything you reach for and think you've finally managed to grasp with worthy intention ends up wilting from a poisonous touch?
Time used to be my adversary. Now I look at him as caregiver, deftly taking my arm as I hobble forth. As he has done for countless souls.
Our lives are galleries, that much I know. I get lost in galleries, just like I do in shopping malls and hospitals.
I've been in this room already. Haven't I?
Yes. Again and again. You don't recognize the dark mural?
I may. I recognize everything. Problem is, I remember little.
