snatch 190

writing in brief snatches. stolen moments from past splendors.
  i'm tired. as usual. for now i'm just content to be adrift. the peaks are still there, high and remote. i see them, admire their loftiness. the urge to climb is gone. leaving behind an infinitely peaceful man.
  yes, i have dealt with my inner demons. i let them discard me for greener pastures.

let this be an over-hurried epitaph to most of the things that resonated in this blog. the sound and fury . . . the meaningless rhetoric and senseless delusions. the time is now for the little  streams and pot-holed roads.
 i am done.