Pop ….


images…. how quickly time flies.   It has been more than a year since I have been on this site.   I can’t say much has changed.   Time does not heal.   The only part of Jack that is left  is the weasel popping out of this box.   I keep shoving him back in but something draws me to turn the handle to watch him pop out again.   Some days I ache for the truth.   Truth is I will never know the truth.   Truth is .. the truth is what I feel, what I believe, and what I know.   I can believe  the good.  Or I can believe  the evil.   Everyday is a different truth.   Conflicted.  Like this fucking toy.


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