An Idle Wandering
It's late and I have just come home from a 'chick flick.' the darkness was perhaps at fault or maybe the idle chatter of analysis that comes from the training of two people. As we were talking we past by a feild of lights illuminating a tennis feild and a pair wacking the ball back and forth in the futile effort of making a point in or out of the boxes drawn in white on the ground. He, in the driver seat, begins a rememberance of those times he had done the same in the dead hours of the night with a friend suffering from the hypertension of insomnia. I looked into the darkness of street after street and asked myself in the off beat of the conversation, 'if I had not led such a sheltered life in my younger years of life would I still have this vivacious charm of holding beauty in the smallest of everyday mircales? Would I have had need to understand the world as I now find glorious wonder in so many little tid bits of literature and knowledge? I can't honestly understand or begin to answer these questions; yet, the carry some signifigance to my idle thoughts. The conversation begins again between me and him and forgetfulness regretfully takes away the thought to allow more into my mind when silence takes over. the second set of idle thoughts are of my emotions. I am always in awe of the raw emotions coursing through my head and my heart, if you will? Why is it that I cry at the smallest of heartbreaks or the sweetest of miricales? Why am I given such the strongest urges to become what I can't be at the current moment of my life? Why I'm a made to constantly notice those unrecognized dreams without the resolution of having them? is it that it will make the all the more sweeter in the end or is it just a cruel joke played on me by the powers that control this universe? i'm unsure of all of this and even more unsure why such things as these roll through my head int he oddest of times and places where thought should be focused and idle wonders carefully tucked away for the meditation of them. I can but only sigh and await the answers in the futility of the ball being bounced back and forth and points drawn up towards the winner.