...Another high school graduation... -- I 
approach this kind of thing frequently 
in my dreams so it must mean 
something... I watch the faces lined 
up in the procession. I see acne I 
think cannon fodder. Later I hear the 
speeches: once again this is the 
'greatest' class whose members will 
cure disease, eliminate poverty, fix 
the environment. Yeah, right. 
Probably no one future famous in this 
group of 500. 

I'm reminded  of basic training -- a 
next step, along with raising your own 
kids, lower rungs, middle rungs, 
retirement, hospital, the morgue, final 
eulogies. I hear the voices; yes, you've 
made and will now lose friends... The 
true narrative begins when you can't 
find pictures of long-last patrons, 
portals of beings --what ever that 
means-- and feel the ache and 
melancholy because they're gone for 
good, gone the long way, joined the 
circus, ended in a war obscure to the 
future or just plain gone. But that is 
the good thing. The true fright is if it 
should all just stop.