We’ve all had those magical moments of the most introspectively enlightened insight and the spiritually soul-cleansing clarity found only at the heart of the stark realization that we know not where the fuck we are.
J. K. R. Nash IV
Nocturnal Admissions
being the Meandering Metaphysics and Philosophical Flatulence of a Prodigal Orphan
Prodigal Orphan
Headed into my 50's figuring I finally had at least almost all the the right answers.
Passed into my 60's realizing I might not have asked the right questions to begin with.
Oh shit ... gotta start all over again.
