It is Tuesday January 21st. Naked trees sway in the wind turning north. I am lost in my thoughts at the office desk, absorbing the silence only broken by gentle clicking of various mechanical keyboards, an occasional muffled cough. I love my crew. They embrace this silence as much as I do.
It has been said that a standard cycle in a man's life is seven years. Most of the cells in human body are regenerated in roughly ten years, save for very specific brain cells which can last from 50 years to a lifetime. I am not the same entity I was 10 years ago in so many levels. I have learned that the things I want and the things I need are not the same thing. I have learned that nothing in this existence is truly easy. We earn our keep every day.
And yes, we plough through it all without giving it much thought while at it. We keep vigil at night for the hours and days wasted. We mourn this loss when we think no-one sees.
I am not enjoying this free fall through time, through days and months. At some point I will reach the figurative escape velocity and change course. With this momentum, with one fell swoop, I will eventually crash land to your shores.
From the rooftops of Gaudi's cathedral,
saints please bless me for my heart pulls south.
No prayer can save me now,
no such word strong enough.
And I don't know what has gotten to me,
or what brought me here tonight.
I have nothing to give you but my heart
and these thoughts I claim as mine.
Now that image is no longer
and a figure forms naturally.
When you stand beside all the nonsense,
then what would you really be to me?
A portrait of a goddess,
or a painful lesson learned,
or the closest thing to perfect
in a less than a perfect world.
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