time honored

i look around and my life is a strange place. not something i didn't inhabit but something i did. when all around me is death and destruction and reconstructionist attitudes and i think, how did we get here? and realize the collective "we" is a construct. that the "we" i thought existed never did. so let me go back to the beginning and wonder how we can connect in a meaningful way. this is a formidable aspect of writing, the collective "we." not about attitudes or adjustments or positions or possessions but about consciousness of a generation or two.