Text 29425, 118 rader
Skriven 2006-05-13 03:05:36 av Philip Lozier (1:267/169)
  Kommentar till text 29382 av Nathaly Borisova(SJ) (2:478/37.21)
Ärende: Canadian "Skills"
=========================
 FS>>
 RW>>> Bend over and show us your wounds, Phil.

 FS>>
 FS>> WAIT!!!  I don't wanna see!  ... [rushing away] ...

 NBS>  See then. If it's not a door, it's gate.

The wounds.

It's a gate, and a door. I've seen the open door, and chose to close it... yet
I've left the gate to the yard open.

I often watch the gate...

Should I have left it open, but closed and bolted the door?

The wounds.

The gate is still open, and I look through the peephole of my door. Tha path is
bare. Maybe I shouldn't have left the gate open.

But I still watch the gate...

I left it open. Maybe it should stay that way for awhile. Spring is here, and
flowers grow on the path from the door to the gate

The wounds.

Maybe they can be healed.

I think I'll leave that gate open afterall, and maybe one day again, I'll see a
door again, and this time I'll walk through it. Afterall, the path is growing
so nice, through the peephole of smallness I only see through my closed and
bolted door.

The wounds.

I opened the door I saw today!  I walked through it and was amazed at how
bright the path was when not looked at through the dismal confines of a
peephole of a closed and bolted door.

I saw a gate.  I wanted to go there.

The path.

I saw a pretty path in front of me.  It led to a beautiful garden, just past a
gate. I knew this place, yet I never saw it as beautiful as it seemed that day.
 I've seen this path, I've see this gate, but never like this day.

I walked the path, towards the gate.

The gate.

No trolls... no toll bearers... I never knew. I never closed the gate! It was
open all the time. No thieves, no highwaymen... just the open gate, the one I
left open, but ignored behind closed doors, and only looked at through the
peepholes of my ignorance.  It was so beautiful, the gate and the garden that
lay behind it, that I seemed to miss before.

I HAD to walh through the gate!

The walk.

It was predestined... the walk through the gate.  Yet I hesitated, Why?  So
much to leave behind. So much undone.  So many regrets.  I've looked at it
through the peephole, but never thought I'd walk through it so soon.  That's
why I locked myself behind the door... but I'm there now... at the gate.

The gate.

I didn't walk... but I must.  The things that be are beyond my control now. 
That garden is fantastic, and those I love will follow me there one day.  I can
no longer be who I was here, but only make a place for my friends there. I feel
so strong in life, yet weaker by every moment. It IS a beautiful garden, isn't
it?

It's time to take the walk.

The walk.

I looked forward through the gate and saw everything so clear. I looked back
the other way down the path I had just come from. I couldn't help but shed
tears.  I knew it was time to go through the gate,  What would be left behind
was best to be left behind, and for me to open a gate for them.

I walked up to the gate again.

I walked through it, still a tear in my eye.

The wounds.

Oh... the wounds.
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((despite the first implications, this is not about "death" but about unwanted
changes... if you got that, then you're good))


The rest of ya... if ya didn;t get it, suck a big hairy one and go listen to
old Menudo tapes or sumpin.

--- FMail/Win32 1.60
 * Origin: ==<<FLaSHBaCK-BBS>>== part of the NYCap/Adirondack Netwo (1:267/169)