CHARLES LEVINSOHN

“Now those memories come back to haunt me, they haunt me like a curse. Is a dream a lie that don’t come true, or is it something worse?”

That dark question posed by Bruce Springsteen is one of my favorite lyrics, and I don’t even know what it means. What I do know is that life goes by fast, slipping away without notice or preparation. We were young and now we’re old. We remember a lot, but we forget even more.

In looking back, I could’ve done so many things better, but there’s no payoff in that. Nevertheless, I presently stand on the shaky precipice of impending old age. Somehow my feet are firmly on the ground (at least for the moment). I’m in a state of reflection even more far reaching than usual. Im randomly recalling places, people, and things spread out across the spectrum of decades. I recognize myself as an unfinished work of art, colored with contradictions of victory and defeat. I’m at the crossroads, and there’s no turning back,