Over an uncertain number of years I’ve felt my moral compass or certainty of the right thing to do or say degrade to the point where these judgments become murky. It is not that I’m losing any sense or missing anything but simply making other choices, perhaps making choices that had not been presented to me in one form or the other, the best choices when relayed back to my cohorts reckon or reflect in smiles or admiration as if their old compasses have not changed the bend of conservatism the wild things we used to do where if I were a kid I’d steal a pack or gum or how I would never do such a thing through fear now unable or put in a position where there are choices that perhaps my cohorts had come across at earlier periods whereas I having been well protected am functioning as a child awed at the majesty of morals gone awry or of the trouble we begin to make for ourselves when we stop telling people what we’re afraid of and then we wake up unable to tell the person next to us what we were dreaming of as if any judgment were too much to take not a single decision fit the world ended up upended the questions would not come instead of buying paused to think what I have.
