Tuesday, June 30, 2009
The Drive Before Dawn
I read what you leave in public spaces. The songs you reference. The quotes you quote. I know it's about me. I can feel you thinking of me. I want to tell you that I know and admit that I feel the same. But I can't. Not yet.
The First Time We Met
It's when you hold eye contact for that second too long or maybe the way you laugh. It sets off a flash and our memories take a picture of who we are at that point when we first know "This is love."
And we clutch that picture to our hearts because we expect each other to always be the people in that picture. But people change. People aren't pictures. And you can either take a new picture or throw the old one away.
And we clutch that picture to our hearts because we expect each other to always be the people in that picture. But people change. People aren't pictures. And you can either take a new picture or throw the old one away.
Monday, June 29, 2009
The Hope Of Symmetry
So you look for patterns because that's what humans do to try and make sense of things. In hope of some divine order. And you look in movies and songs and the things that you read for symbols, points and swirls that match your own. But the only real pattern there is, is the one you make when you hold up a mirror. And reflect.
Friday, June 26, 2009
The Missed Appointment
Thursday, June 25, 2009
The Language Of Shadows
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
The Car In The River
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
The Fractals Repeat
Monday, June 22, 2009
The Whether Weather
Friday, June 19, 2009
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
The Tempus Tempest Playground
The Seat Next To You
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
The Metronome Tree
Forget about your lists and do what you can because that's all you can do. Phone up the people you miss and tell them you love them. Hug those close to you as hard as you can. Because you are always only a drunk driver's stupidity, a nervous shopkeeper's mistake, a doctor's best attempts and an old age away from forever.
Monday, June 15, 2009
The Scraps Of Moving Paper
Friday, June 12, 2009
The Moths Don't Die For Nothing
Thursday, June 11, 2009
The Middle Managers Will Be Forgotten
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Monday, June 8, 2009
The Day I Got Older
Thursday, June 4, 2009
The Layers Unseen
There is magic even here, in gridlock, in loneliness, in too much work, in late nights gone on too long, in shopping trolleys with broken wheels, in boredom, in tax returns, the same magic that made a man write about a princess that slept until she was kissed, long golden hair draped over a balcony and fingers pricked with needles. There is magic even here, in potholes along back-country roads, in not having the right change (you pat your pockets), arriving late and missing the last train home, the same magic that caused a woman in France to think that God spoke to her, that made another sit down at the front of a bus and refuse to move, that lead a man to think that maybe the world wasn't flat and the moon could be walked upon by human feet. There is magic. Even here. In office cubicles.
The Golden Locks Phenomena
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
The Minutes Of The Meeting
Monday, June 1, 2009
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