Dust in the Wind

I sometimes drift in thought during my days. Daydream. Reflect. Streams of consciousness. Memories come flooding in from dark and dusty corners of my mind. With each of them comes a feeling, a mood, a smell, a taste. I am there again, it brings back the feelings of isolation that play off the feelings of freedom that the isolation allows, yet I realize I am lonely also. I like the power the isolation gives me to do what I want to do, but I want to share it with someone and often there is no one to share it with. I learn as I grow up to entertain myself within worlds I create in my mind. I am my own best friend, yet I yearn for much more. Here I am 50 years later, and the melancholy is still here, permeating everything in my life - my work, my friendships, my lovers. Even in the midst of happiness, I always look over my shoulder as if I'm being chased by catastrophe. Life is hard, my Irish grandmother always said. Many of us fool ourselves otherwise, but I think my Grandma had it right. That's why despite my seemingly 'doom and gloom' attitude, I actually treasure the precious moments I get in life more than most do. At the same time I treasure them, I realize they are slipping away. Solomon said it - all we are is dust in the wind...