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What have I missed?| | Mist. A vapor, he said. Like a gunslinger with puns, that one.
Hello, did you notice me?
Can't you see that I'm crumbling down?
Tired of the same old same
I'm coming to
I'm coming back around
There are some in betweens with extremes. Gray to the green and a streak of ribboned yellow.
We want to pick a side from there, sometimes chosen or decided, or as they seemingly fall upon us.
And yes, we think on duality when we see it. Look at how we deal in time, our reason contemplates the past, and our imagination perceives shapes of the future. Ever remaining, ever preluding, concluding, a moment lasts for a moment and this is it. Or as it was and might, and will, be, now, is, are. Yes, we are. Is.
Breathe.
T.S. Elliot the poet and Samuel Beckett the playwright. Chesterton and Pascal the theologians. They make thoughts of mine turn to great, heavy things. Stagger, if you will, when I explain quite sincerely that the quest of questions will lead (mostly) to nothing but more questions. Indeed, the Answer came first and this gave us the chance to ask the questions. And through all this, I seem to still know how to laugh and watch time go passed past and by. Some times good. Sometimes not. Moments, I call them. And I haven't missed a single one. And still I've missed them all.
I'm getting too much of a kick out of this ramble. Every time, I become aware of this quickly, I leave a remark (like the current one) and use it as a tool to justify my speaks. This is the part where I want to turn back, delete myself (in words) and start with something fresh. But with any luck, I'll move onward and this will be another one for the pile, the mound.
In one tense, I sang a song.
Diggin' in for another day
Carrying on in my own
But you know me
I live and die nearly every day
Insanity, it's havin' its way with me
These days in the gallows
I'm kneeling at the block
With my neck outstretched
And I should've stayed in the shallows
But you know me, I'm in too deep
And I'm waiting for another me
One that can change the pain of yesterday
Carry me through another day
And I'm waiting for another me
One in between the burn
And the lessons learned
'Cause being me ain't no way to be
I more so quickly than not realized the flaw, or error, or misconception in its relevancy (application). To the reader, this may appear all to obvious... that the one man was indeed waiting, but the other will surely not come. This is what makes a sort of loneliness, and of self-concern we find a selfish theme. But though it strikes towards a truth in a gracious way, it is a misconception still.
-Gracious.
Now theres a word that awakens you, even from the finger tips, even as you type it. I see someone like Marmee, and I learn little slivers about graciousness. Slivers, I mean, and in my fingertips. Off to Massachusetts.
There's an ever better one, I wish that you might know.
The broken clock is a comfort, it helps me sleep tonight
Maybe it can stop tomorrow from stealing all my time
I am here still waiting though i still have my doubts
I am damaged at best, like you've already figured out
I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing
With a broken heart that's still beating
In the pain is there is healing
In your name I find meaning
So I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on
I'm barely holdin' on to you
The broken locks were a warning you got inside my head
I tried my best to be guarded, I'm an open book instead
I still see your reflection inside of my eyes
That are looking for a purpose, they're still looking for life
I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing
with a broken heart that's still beating
In the pain is there is healing
In your name I find meaning
So I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on
I'm barely holdin' on to you
I'm hangin' on another day
Just to see what you will throw my way
And I'm hanging on to the words you say
You said that I will be ok
The broken lights on the freeway left me here alone
I may have lost my way now, haven't forgotten my way home
Meet this with a Pslam, a prayer, a landscape and an old friend. You have a moment of definition, at least as it was.
Of course I'm looking forward, why would you ask? Why not? I am! Because time is more valuable than possibilities, and both there is much of. Nostalgia is an enemy of possibility, we become fond of a recording that will never change. This one will buy a goodbye before it will accept one willingly. And then we go on, as the next day will arise, and see that hope is not defined by what will actually come to pass, but by what is even now taking place. Hope lives in the moment. Though it befriended tomorrow, it resides with today.
So true, says the reader.
I tell you without metaphor that I was on the waters with the moonlight to one side and the sunset on the other. I'm enough of a moondancer to be a lunatic. I set down often as well, in similarity. And I'm trying to elude to something wonderful in the wind and the water, but all I can get to is how incredible a thing like friendship is. How over the course years it can sit and wait, or walk for miles. And even to the very focus of wind and water, this is all I can brood over.
I began to think perhaps I should tweak my personality to be more inclined to be concerned with other people (opposed to myself)... but you've already got me there, as I began such a sentence with "I". Such a tweak is a facade of self-love.
Nay. I know wherefor love has come.
You, reader... might not quite follow this part... but...
At a time, I discovered a hero and a villain alongside one known as manS laughter, and I know good things are in such a friendship. And I believe in him.
Next. Shared before you are two of them sharing something, something right, and good, and blessed, and they are quite something, let me tell you. Such beginnings, growing out of friendship. I believe in them. Next. I sat, at times didn't know what to say. But that moment lasted a few hours, and friendship was of great worth, as worthy of a cause, to be cared for, thoughts to be shared for, it's what I was there for. I am grateful and joyful, I know something now to be sure as time will go on. Next. I still believe in them both, with everything I am. Next. I am tossing a rock and tumbling through grass. I am being seen. And I am finely seeing.
119 - somewhere he prayed something like... "incline my heart, Lord, to your ways." and I was thinking about the songs I sing, when I came upon something to the effect of "You are the the theme to my song" and I felt like I was in conversation with a good friend. I know what that is like.
Vivid and verily, I wish somethings I said more, and others I hadn't at all. I'll think to myself later, wondering if this was good. I already know.
Peace. Yes, I know.
-Kevin | | | Posted 7/30/2007 2:53 AM - 19 Views - 2 eProps - 1 Comment
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