30.4.09

The Bullet

Stop and start and through the bends I found myself. Again.
In the metaphorical wave of life I found the beat and my heart followed along. Suddenly the world was clear as the ups and downs and curves became the plummets and rises and suspense of elation. If only for a second I knew. Is it coincidence that all good things are skyward.
I wouldn't think so.

Here I am as there you are, growing old in using the same old methods to cope with what was previously uncopable. The year has passed me by within whatever manner of dictation I chose to end it with and has not bothered to look back and I refuse to chase after it.

Cursed forever with the insight to the beginning of a vast ocean deep with infinity. Bubbles glow and burst and I can't help but get the feeling I've seen this before and am systematically phased with the ideal that the old is behind me. And yet here I am as there you are.

Somewhere behind the clouds and blue skies encasing the majestic buildings all composed musically on single stretches of paper lays the world undiscovered, ready for me to rip away the obvious. The world in all its beauty is only comparable to itself and quite possibly the sound of that single bullet from that one gun to spark the start of the race in between light blue linE(ye)s. And I'll sit on my chair forever ready to be done with impatience whose only ability is to teach the blind.

I am greedy and want the world on that paper with labels and numbers all for me to understand and decode and manipulate forever. And somewhere deep inside of myself lays me waiting on that street corner with all the wisdom and understanding of a god just to remind myself that I will never have all of those things.

Maybe the year that passed me by time and time again isn't actually leaving. This time that I spend dictating and organizing my life is nothing more than myself making sense of what I can't. And yet, the instant you accept your surroundings as reality you've lost more potential than life could ever give you. Dear Father Time, Thank you.


-Taylor J. Pridgen

No comments:

Post a Comment