  Written 12. June. 2002 So It Goes Sickly sweet, consumed by rage, made bitter with pain. Careful construction of a thousand illusions shattered with a husky whisper. Come tumbling down to land at my feet - staring in resigned acknowledgement. Such are the standards I hold myself to.
But now the wound is closed with a cynical scab, and it only itches a little, around the edges. Small scar in the making. What's one more among the countless rest? Not festering, nor screaming in anguish just... letting it happen, flow over and through me - 'cause I'd rather be done with it then bring it to light. No martyrdom here, no cry of foul. Too many details to be justified in that.
Too many greys to plead black and white. I'll give it up, I'll let it go, let the scar find its place. Pick your battles, choose carefully when to fight - Here's my sword - I am neutral to this plight. And so it goes, and we move on and I can smile again... Someday. 
