Be what you want, say what you mean, one thing leads to another.

Sometimes I feel as though I can actually let go of the past, write what I feel, and languish, if only for a few moments, in a luke warm bath of self approval. My baggage has not been checked through, it has been put in storage. The conductor is announcing that it's time to get on board, and a high-pitched steam whistle can be heard in the distance, far up the track. My itinerary is in place, a no-plan plan to venture beyond the constraints of my self-imposed exile from main street. I am ready to shift positions in my seat, sit up straight, put this thing in gear, and slowly release the brake. It's time to move on, forward would be preferred. But there is still something that is not right, something not quite in place, a minor detail overlooked perhaps.

I find myself on the train, I'm the engineer looking out the window at the baggage platform and all the other people waiting for their connection to somewhere. They're glancing at their wrist watches, then at the clock on the wall, then at the posted schedule near the station door. I am at the controls of the locomotive, hand on the throttle. I reach for the brake handle. I'm not waiting for any more passengers to get on board, it is time to go.

Then I feel something with my foot, jamming the brake lever jutting out of the floor, preventing me from releasing the brake. I reach down and pick it up. It's a small, black leather briefcase with an open padlock hanging on the latch...and it is very heavy for its size. Across the front of it, in large, white block letters, it says, "REGRETS".

I don't need to look inside the briefcase, I know very well what is in it. I choose to close the open padlock, snapping it shut, tightly. Pandora's Box is now locked. The brake lever is free to release, the train lurches forward, and I kick the briefcase off the train onto the platform.

Holy shit! Now what? I can only hope that some well-meaning person won't find that briefcase and try to return it to me. But that is highly unlikely. Only I can do that.

The tracks ahead fade into the mist. I don't really know the destination yet. The future is set only to the extent that I know the direction. Forward.

My next challenge: What to do about those bags labeled "DENIAL" and "RATIONALIZATIONS"!