“The mountains are the last things that are remaining old and undisturbed, but even now we are building things into them. I still can go in them, camp out and watch the stars; sleep and dream in the night by an old fire; and wonder some where else other than this realm of confusion. It truly is something simple, easy, and very righteous. It is being alone and hearing the voices of the past…”
I composed this in my late teens, around the time I turned eighteen and was graduating from high school. You could say I was pretty lucky to graduate, considering I sloughed a lot of high school. If it hadn’t been for my mom’s steady motivation, I would’ve might’ve been a drop out. When I turned sixteen I took advantage of having a driver’s license, I spent a lot of free time in the hills. Friends used to go with me a lot, but they soon dwindled and went their seperate ways. I’m passed tweny now and the years are starting to slip by… Still those places that I love are still there. They sing of the past. I am going to post pieces of writings from earlier in my life, and include them under their own category. You will see them filed under Time Warp… They are quite simple, maybe even repulsive… But that was me six years ago.