Time does move slower when you are having fun. It sounds cliche but it's true. Life is a bag of cliches and I have a big bag - it's what keeps me alive. I live them and I embrace them. Praying for you constantly like a church girl. Monkeys. Last week I was in the middle of a swamp, going fast on a speed boat. This week? Waiting in a line. Sitting in limbo. Why are there so many lines? "People are obsessed with lines" you say, I nod my head in agreement as I check out the half Asian, half Spanish, white girl in the short shorts.
She was the girl of many strings. Never focused on just one thing. You are a hideaway, you are a feeling. Walled up like a castle. I was the tumbleweed. It must have been and had to be. The answer is never very clear, you either do or you don't. Open up your heart. Bad mistakes, fresh cantaloupe. If you want it, come and get it. Love is a place made for one. This is not about love.
Patience is a virtue. I want to buy some coffee but I know it's toos hot to drink, too fluid to touch. Rain begins to fall, Miami International. Alone, by myself, as I sit in the airport terminal and I think at this moment, right now, at this time; nothing else in the world is better than a free AA Priority Business class seat. A Let go of your heart, let go of your head and feel it now. My love was never in doubt. Dreamworld.
Love and live in the moment. The sweet summer sea breeze blowing across your face. The scent of your skin. The rhythmic humming of a boat engine racing towards the city. How art thou my sweet love. The past is far away, the future so close. Waves, gentle kisses, curves and vegan dishes.
The night lasts forever. The mornings are sleepy. Wake up sweet bread, time to see the world. Cantaloupe juice, foreign coins, blocked roads, window seats. The great pretender. We are in good company. A single flower in your hair, oh sweet island girl.
Sun glasses, new apartments, the gentle sea breeze. Old dreams, new keys. Its all been done before. How art thou my love? I have missed you so much. The sun shines and rain falls. Appetizers, airplanes, weddings, grape jam, freshly toasted wheat bread, wanderlust. Walk for miles, toothpaste, endless vacation. Duty free. Wake free. Stress free. Dancing queen.
If there is one redeeming aspect of public transportation (other than the fact that it's cheaper) are those precious moments of soul sucking waiting. When that is not happening there is the dreading of what great void might be swallowing up all the buses just meters before they reach the location at which you are waiting. I am waiting in vain in for your love.
I fear that at some point I will gain a level of knowledge, wisdom and understanding which will render me placid and unable to enjoy anything ever again. I would be the realest, giving lessons in physics - dropping shit like a pigeon, a ragged old fool living in the present. Neither past, nor future. Completely complete in incompleteness.
There is a feeling in the back of your mind, deep in your memories that you can almost touch. A distant memory of your childhood/past. The wind in your hair. The subtle sound of a dry leaves on the ground. You can almost taste it. You can't have that experience again. The most you can do is take the headphone out of your ears, turn off all the sounds from your smartphone and enjoy the sounds of the moment. Because at some point in the future you'll try to build a time machine to get back to this moment that you are wasting right now. Enjoy the moment.
I have been beset by choices lately. Choices are not my friend. They stalk me like a man eating cat in the jungle of life. Or a big batty woman is a trouble to a man. None of the choices are particularly easy or financially viable. Time is running out and of course other people are of no help. I must wade through the tall grass and hope I come out on the other side of the uncharted swampy wasteland beyond the thunderdome.
What's happened has already happened and the future is already on its way. There is nothing else I can do about it. Hell is other people. One just has to hope they get lucky. Physics will bring us together. Everything exists in relation to something else like trees exist because monkeys need something to climb. If it makes you happy, it can't be that bad.
Any type of advanced knowledge or skill takes hours or years of practice. And the more you practice the more you realize how hard it is for other people to understand what you do even at a molecular level. There is nothing else I can do. I would go to work earlier in the mornings if I didn't have to kill myself doing it. But I guess everything you do kills you a little bit each day.
I am not sure if we get wiser over time or the crap - it just piles so high that we cannot help but see it staring at us from the trees. Monkeys. An invisible line has been drawn in the sand. You can only complain about the past until the future passes you by. You become heavy with concrete feet. Life is a process of transition.
I think all the wisdom that is gained from getting older is wasted on the constant need to verify every point of discussion you come up on. It is as if life is one big final exam and you be like "ain't nobody got time for that". And you worry about the things you haven't done instead of enjoying the things that you are doing.
It is always the same time. I might be growing increasing impatient with the procedure and I can't get no satisfaction. They say a man ain't supposed to cry. I am not sure who said that - must be a woman. Mushin no shin. What matters ain't the who's baddest but the ones who stop you falling from your ladder.