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The past gets tangled up in the present and it hurts, I think everyone knows this. The past is something we either escape from, or spend our whole lives trying to go back to. No matter what you do, nothing takes the pain away and you are lost forever searching for something that you believe no longer exists. Pain, like fuel, like gasoline to burn the pages of the past and write a new script. Nature is unforgiving, but beautiful, there is passion in the pandemonium. Brief moments that nurture a lack of complete childhoods. Broken dreams living in a broken world where they can’t see the light. Some moths make it, some don’t, some buy a car and drive there and others turn and jump off the bridge. In a world where the two happen every day, it makes you wonder why. Our demons, whether they reside within ourselves or out there beyond your bedroom door. Open it and greet them, invite them in for tea and chat about the weather. The truth that we seek often lies behind the sugar and sweetness… while not often pretty, not thinking about it is the same as not remembering it.