CHRONICLED by Brusheildon

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Until the lions have their own historians the history of the hunt will forever glorify the hunter.

Ghosts

One, two, three they came floating

The ghosts of my wrong decisions

Reminding me of those moments in the past years and months that I had no right being wrong

Reminding me that those decisions rest squarely in the palm of my hands and I decided to go left instead of right. But did I know better?

I think I did. I’m almost sure of it. Circumstantialy however, maybe I didn’t know. Brutally honest, I think I was being blindly idealistic as I usually am.

I can never seem to find my realist lenses when I need them. And truth is, I’ve worn these optimist ones since forever. Now my vision is a bit blurred and I wonder if will see another day.

Long live decisive indecision and platonic romances. Makes no sense right. All the same as long live the writer of this piece.

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