Ashes to ashes

... dust to dust. Can you taste the acrid air? I don't think anyone likes to eat char, unless of course it is a thoughly blacked was-once-a-hotdog and I find that gross. *sticks out tounge and makes gagaing noises like an over-reactive six year old. Ah, we all expect to die at sometime, yet that dosen't make the prospect any more applealing. One week, one day... it all starts over.

I visited familiar palces today and yet I felt foregin; like an interloper. Familiar sights and faces have become near to meaningless and I wish them back as they were before. Another life; one I can no longer live has passed me by and I miss it to an extent. I can't stop the ever changing tide of life... what can I do? Live each day crossing my fingers and hoping for favored outcomes? I might as well take up gambling. How does one choose a positive change over a negitive, when at a distance they look so close, and when upon you it is too late.

My mind is full and I know I can't yet rest, though I so desperately want to, as I have to get up early on the morrow.