Memories at times anchor one to the past and while the past may have been beautiful, it is no way of living- that is like clinging on to a ghost of you- a shell that is no longer inhabited by anything living and I know this well. All too well. I’ve been living in the past for far too long and every once in a while, I travel back in time, in the memories of yesterday. When I notice myself doing this, I realize, I have had a bad day- and I remember the colorful fish in a pond from my dreams. They are a kind of rare species in this world, and two of them are dead and floating in the crystalline waters of the Los Angeles Oasis which exist only in my dreams. Two of whom I loved and adored and will always love. Blue, Yellow, Green, Red, and I killed two relationships with these rare species. I cut all ties, and I miss them so, as if limbs were taken from my flesh. God knows why, and I probably deserved it. But I have to have faith in the universe, because nothing is more beautiful than that- when all is synchronized, the winds, the ruffles of paper, it is all so magical. Yes, magic does exist, and it is always the hand of the universe that creates the miracles. How then could the desert find a spring? Or the mountain be moved by a mustard seed? Or lightning grow out of pitch black night? Or a rainbow beam through a crystal? And I have faith in that. I do, and I know this and if there is anything I know it is this and only this.