Waiting, on that, dusty bookshelf over there, waiting, to get taken down, to get, sorted through, to be, noted, stories of our yesterdays. But, neither one of us was willing, to review, over the events of our shared and separate pasts again!
Stories of our yesterdays, we’d heard them getting told, retold, retold, and, retold, over, over, and over again, and, we’d grown, weary, of these tales now, for they’d, lost that freshness to them, after all, we’d, already, heard them, a MILLION times over already, hadn’t we?
Not my sketch…
Stories of our yesterdays, you’d asked, why we would need to, know about our yesterdays, they’re all, in the past, and the past was, already, DEAD and gone, so, what’s the use? Why bother with them? Because we need to, trace back to the roots of our pasts, to figure out exactly, what had happened to us, and, whilst, knowing, that there was, NOTHING we could’ve done, to change our collective pasts, I think, that, would be the hardest part of this.
Stories of our yesterdays, they’re all written down, read, reread, reviewed, again, and again, and again, and, what, did we get out of it? Nothing, but pain, and, if we can’t, get past the pains of our earlier days, we will always be, blind, to the truth of what had happened to each and every one of us.
And that would be why, it’s so important, the stories, the stories of our yesterdays, we must figure out exactly, what happened, a long time ago, even if, we have NO recollections of what had happened back then………
Life, the Obstacle Course 