From A Dark Wood

"Not ours to question the goal of our going…..enough for us to go." AC

Today I write for the first time. The first time with a clear head that is……I have not written a sentence in fourteen months. Where to begin? Maybe I should start with Hazelden. Or maybe I should start with an email from a friend, pleading with me to "get clean." I fear moving forward from this point, scared of my true thoughts and selfish skin, fearing that this disclosure will illuminate my inability to put forth my pen without the use of chemicals. It was easy in the old days….words and thoughts seem to flow so easily. The world was one big chemically enhanced metaphor. Pictures and images swirled together with fantastical feeling, moving with a gravitational sense of purpose, moving without care of their surroundings. They did not notice that they could no longer see the shoreline or that the water had gotten so dirty. ……………..