“Pages of Time” By Eva Marie Cagley

Updated: Apr 4

Guest writer for "mynzdreamblog"

I’ve been thinking about writing more frequently. The simple reason is, that I have so much on my mind these days. Things bother me and yet, I can’t quite put the pieces together. I’m constantly going back in my mind, leafing through the ancient documents of the time, looking for those that got lost along the way. Now, more than ever, I have the desire to find those long-abandoned pages blowing like tumbleweeds in my subconscious.

Perhaps it is a result of my childhood. Things that got locked away and were buried long ago under a heavy rug that is walked upon, but there never is enough movement to displace the dust that has collected over the years.

Searching for the clues to unlock the doors that have been closed for so long, once again opened to experience life as before.

Now, just torn pages blowing in a universal black swirl of emotions that paint pictures of thunder clouds hanging over my head.

At times, I feel we can only help ourselves; that no one can give our lives direction or understanding.

We must find our own understanding of feelings, words, and thoughts. Once again reading my mind, I find it hard to imagine thinking so deeply while looking into a bottomless well. It’s as if something outside of me is reading my inner thoughts, while at the same time wandering into the channels of my mind. For whose purpose am I writing on this blank paper in a futile effort to understand the inner workings of my subconscious state?

Either what we think is real, or what we believe is real. What we believe is our own truth, and while others must find their own way to their truth, what lies within their pages of them?

Traveling through my subconscious, looking for a log to grab hold of, being violently tossed about in a rushing torrent, heading for a waterfall of pages called my life, grabbing onto the first sturdy log I see to prevent myself from falling even further into my subconscious mind… Cascading down the rushing wall of water, to journey along yet another rivulet within my dormant psyche, always searching for those lost pages of time.

© Eva Marie Cagley


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