It is the fourth anniversary of my father’s last breath. That point in time when my self-inspired demigod within was cast unceremoniously down into the world of man. A place where I find myself hitched to a fatal cart pulling me ahead. Downhill tot he river of the precipice of a mortal cliff. Who will mourn my passing? My unconscious estimation of myself a broken glass upon dust surmounted walls. My creator transformed now into a mythic presence. He visits me at night alone and neglected. His weary form sleeps in my bed as I now sleep in his. This is what I aspired to in life and now find myself condemned to regret in death. By the standard of the shadows in my empty universe he was a giant and I but a single pea. The center on my universe with his paramour my mom that I found myself revolve around. But a fading memory subservient by exhaustion brought on by dead end jobs. Who am I to wonder since I too have had my time. Indolence in the lap of a mental luxury that we were all exempt from the ravages time. If it had to be lived all over I still cannot mange what might have been changed? We are all carved from the same ivory scraped clean of flesh by the weather’s indifferent vane.