(no subject)
Here I am, about to turn thirty, commuting home from my 9-5, and something hits me. I am singing along to El Scorcho, and I feel like nineteen, not twentynine. My heart feels open, like the future is a blue horizon.
I seriously contemplate asking my high school girlfriend, who I haven't seen in almost a decade and who is married to a ninja master, to elope with me. That's the kind of freedom I feel. Pure potential, sparking on the edge of creation.
Where does this come from? Why now, after all these years of wandering? Just a neural chain reaction, fired off by an old Weezer song? I think it is something more, something deeper. A spontaneous growth, an opening in the absolute system that my heart slips through.
My heart! Who even says that? Who has one of those to speak of, much less follow? This animate dust, this little peice of everything reflecting back at the rest.
I feel GOOD. Cold hands, chapped lips, but good.
I seriously contemplate asking my high school girlfriend, who I haven't seen in almost a decade and who is married to a ninja master, to elope with me. That's the kind of freedom I feel. Pure potential, sparking on the edge of creation.
Where does this come from? Why now, after all these years of wandering? Just a neural chain reaction, fired off by an old Weezer song? I think it is something more, something deeper. A spontaneous growth, an opening in the absolute system that my heart slips through.
My heart! Who even says that? Who has one of those to speak of, much less follow? This animate dust, this little peice of everything reflecting back at the rest.
I feel GOOD. Cold hands, chapped lips, but good.