Is that too much too hope for?

Welcome to my world, please come right on in. Nice to see you. This old world may be getting nuts, but I shall forever be the same. Good or bad there's no one to blame, it's what is, and what was meant to be . .  I reckon! Can't be what we're not. They'll see right through you!

Been in another one of my ever increasing slumps, as in physical inabilities. The act of work increasingly takes its toil, on an ever increasing age. With that comes a decrease in "EVERYTHING!" Knees and back are shot!

Chronic ailments push me farther beyond my capabilities. I had planned to work till age 70. That's when my mother retired, and I did not see any reason why I could not repeat that. Well . . . I do believe we're all different! No matter how much I try to carry onward, I know in my heart, I must reduce my work hours, semi retire or retire altogether. I cannot get it through my head though, do I push, and push, my body, mind and soul until??? The will to continue, just as before, is still there.

There is another factor. The unavoidable conflict I needlessly fight everyday, from not being able to look the other way, at work, or just say "the hell with it! It doesn't matter, nothing I can do about it!"

Ahh! Now we're getting somewhere as I become a Psychiatrist and psycho babble myself.

I rode around the other as in 2 A M Sunday morn. Once it was so special, as me and my old dog Aussie Blue, would ride and search for Bigfoot. It's a private joke between me and her. I'd buy her beef jerky, the kind with a Big Foot character on the package. We'd ride around in the old Chevrolet Venture Van, searching for adventure as sidekicks of the night. I imagined her once again Sunday morning riding along, as I reminisce of them special times we once enjoyed. No matter how cold it was she had to have her window down. I'd have the heater on full blast. If I rolled it up she'd give me hell, she always got her way! 

I cried, everything changes, we can't stop it, can we?

"We cannot push back the tides of change," I read that somewhere. Quite poetic!

I grow tired of putting the happy face on, when a frown is called for! I grow tired of keeping my mouth shut, when riding my horse shouting "ALL IS NOT WELL!"  Is what is needed.

I'm just a tired old fool, why can't I die in peace? Is that too much to ask for?

Do I allow myself to have a dream, in possibly the last act of my sometimes tormented soul . . .  by my own hands?

Yet I cling to one thing, perhaps one purpose I have given myself, and what the last several years of  challenge, has brought me to one understanding!

Simple perhaps to most, yet please believe me when I tell you, "it hasn't been!"

Too place my overabundance of dreams, and the many, many, short stories from Apples to Zinc. I wish to have the time to give to you!!!!  

THAT MY DEAR FRIENDS OF AROUND THE WORLD IS WHAT I WISH FOR.

OH! oh! oh! I visualize one book as I would like to write "The Life And Times Of Bill Lee Hill."

IS THAT TOO MUCH, TOO HOPE FOR?   Glen