It’s official. I know nothing. The director of the grand cinema of my life has decided to use an old film technique of making everything on the screen blur into a swirling dissolve. Usually this technique is used in old films to express loss of memory or going somewhere to a far, far away place. The accompanying music is usually a repeated harp strum.
Everything I thought no longer applies about my life, my future or my present. The only thing I can do now is get comfortable living in the swirling vortex of the BLUR. Surely a new scene will appear on the screen, it always does, and beyond my wildest imagination.