"Yesterday is but today's memory, and tomorrow is today's dream."
~Khalil Gibran
Certain memories leave scars while others can heal the weary soul. Memory is fleeting and colored more often than true. Some memories are even colorfully fleeting as they slip away like snowflakes between fingertips. There are also memories that defy and deny. They're the misty memories and far more insidious because they refuse to be held for even an instant.
Friday nights often give birth to these fiendish deviants but, they always begin their sinful ceremonies with alcohol. Then the mists begin to set in as the evening rolls on and finally, the captain must simply trust in his instruments to guide him home. He knows his ship and he knows the route. He's made it half a hundred times in worse conditions before, or so he tells himself on each subsequent foggy voyage home.
Ancient sea explorers took birds on long voyages to help find land in uncharted waters. Once released, the birds would either return or not. If they returned, the sailors must continue their voyage as land was not near.
The captain on this voyage may know these waters well but that's not to say he always finds a safe harbor so he releases the only creature able to find its way through these mists of sinfulness. The raven, black as night, soars on the winds and peers through the haze of lascivious debauchery. The raven's deathly wisdom gives it the ability to see through the fogs and caw out truth.
"Asshole!" quoth the raven, "Drunken asshole!" quoth the raven, forevermore.
Friday nights often give birth to these fiendish deviants but, they always begin their sinful ceremonies with alcohol. Then the mists begin to set in as the evening rolls on and finally, the captain must simply trust in his instruments to guide him home. He knows his ship and he knows the route. He's made it half a hundred times in worse conditions before, or so he tells himself on each subsequent foggy voyage home.
Ancient sea explorers took birds on long voyages to help find land in uncharted waters. Once released, the birds would either return or not. If they returned, the sailors must continue their voyage as land was not near.
The captain on this voyage may know these waters well but that's not to say he always finds a safe harbor so he releases the only creature able to find its way through these mists of sinfulness. The raven, black as night, soars on the winds and peers through the haze of lascivious debauchery. The raven's deathly wisdom gives it the ability to see through the fogs and caw out truth."Asshole!" quoth the raven, "Drunken asshole!" quoth the raven, forevermore.
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