The sleep that is meant to refresh us, nurture us, give us solace, is oftentimes the sleep that causes the day's tasks or tomorrow's worries to grow, to fester and to manipulate the feelings we tend to hide, push aside and forget about.
    The times when we were young and thought nothing of successes, work, personal growth or the many things that pervade our being and grows inside, outside and near all of us now.
    Many of us have no recourse except to accept the limits we put on ourselves, the boundaries others set for us, indeed, the box or small world we perceive ourselves to be in. Do we ever ask, really ask, if that box has real walls? If that box can be made bigger? Does the box have a door? Why? Or more important, why not?
    In writing this am I expressing a real feeling or a fantasy caused by personal demons. Demons? Really? Or the twisted and tangled synapses in my/our brain that causes a flutter of tangled light amidst a dark rainbow of somber colors and hues.
    Such are my thoughts on this May evening in my 50th something year. Go with your personal God.