A lot of the time we are given is spent in a nearly stagnant state, in a most disturbing sort of internal quiet -
waiting. Almost spider-like, starving while we think of all of the things that could and probably should be done
before the day burns, before the sunset and fumbling towards the kind of restless sleep reserved for the truly weary soul. We are given a pen and a thousand blank pages and we are told to create a life, our own. We are presented with too many complicated possibilities and proceed to spend nearly three quarters
at the very least of our relatively short lives finding a direction - finding a way to drown the
second thoughts that inevitably fill every head.
It is easier, when a head is very heavy, to borrow shoulders, a lap, a chest. It is comforting to
slip into someone else, for a while. It is even more lovely when someone happens to be able to leave you convinced that you will not always live in a semi-conscious kind of world. The kind where days slip by before you notice you've missed the better part.
Sometimes, I think, I need things and people like
you to remind me why it is nice to note the coming and going of a day. It is nice to be reminded, however inadvertantly, that it is okay to dream and it is okay to think that
I will make something of myself, despite all of this.