Should you require old bits of me to make you feel better, then by all means, come collect them. They’re rusty and useless. They’ll have no favor when I’m finished scratching myself out of this cocoon. My residue is worthy of something, I guess. But, the promises of what I have laid out for the future are the most fertile I’ve seen in an awfully long time. Now, I see, some sense of proceeding. I have options. I have decisions. Of all things I’ve been denied in so many months, DECISIONS in regard to ME are the the things that have eluded me. Now, I am a man worthy of such affordability. I am moving forward. Collect what you want of the prior me, but me and my bear are heading out. Cleaning up crap, discarding bullshit, and diving headlong into the beautiful absolute of resolutions that only I can see. I may be silent, I may be noisy, I may even be flirtatious. I may even be myself.