revisitations
2004-01-20I swept off the walk of an old home this evening and made a pass through where the dust had settled before. The air is always so wrong in a place forgotten but something always smells familiar. Whether it's a conversation still bouncing from wall to wall, or it's a mirrored memory showing you flashes of what you once were. Either way or both it all has a corner, or a junk drawer, or a nook just inside the closet under a box you keep meaning to discard, but it is in you still nonetheless.
I found a note in just a place, written with my very own hands, and it somehow chose to make itself rise once again after hiding for so many moons.
"Today is not the day in question but soon it will be and it will be then that I must wake up, shake up and put forth some kind of motion. Until now I have been floundering without much ambition. There has been even less intention in any of the actions, or in this case, reactions to what I am supposed to do.
Recently, I feel as though I am a car with an empty tank riding it's momentum towards anything that resembles a gas station. I'm in a place where the map only shows me the cities and the highways but hardly the scenes or the settings.
It is the challenge of it all, I suppose. Not a bad card to hold, I may add, for I am excited to play all that is dealt before me. It is the crossroads of stories and legends before, and it's mine to solely to drive. I am free. Free.
I feel as though I should constantly remind myself of that fact. breathe in and breathe out with the word drifting within each breath. As much a burden as it is a joy."
I thought these thoughts just recently. How time seldom changes the more true needs within us. The things that even haunt us. It just allows a new perspective, a perch so we can sit and discover a new way to think of such things. But alas, I am free this time, and I may say to you, myself, that we have made it further than before. Now I will breathe a new word, and think of a new thought. It is always the road that lies before us.
