It was while he was in the midst of writing his master's thesis; he had become painfully aware of his own procrastination.  He later blamed anxiety stemming from this aspect of the writing process for much of the self-loathing he had felt about all sorts of other things at that time. This included, for example, excessive guilt he felt over his treatment of his father. His anecdote stuck with me; the moral of the story seemed to be that unresolved narratives can, when left unattended, undermine their hosts.









to forgive and forget how
i became less risk averse
the price of faded memory
i repeat the same mistake  


                                        self deception
                                        merry go round
                                        have i slipped 
                                        back where did
                                        my plans begin 


                 bald man

      trapped in a circle 
   inside a ball of black 

with a hole in the center
            that opens up    
                  for you
that you do not  


                                                         a chance