Its all be done before

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written by owen on 2015-Feb-17.

When the leaves fall in the backyard I sweep them up. I am finding comfort in sweeping the dry leaves every morning. The symbiotic relationship between the tree and the leaves and the walkway is like a iron ball rolling down a hill. The entire world exists so that leaves can fall onto the path every morning for me to sweep. Airplanes disappear in the Indian Ocean so that I can sweep the leaves. All things are perfectly balanced.

As much as I am trapped in my own bubble I find that I enjoy sitting in a new room and just being alive with no impetus to move or rush or go anywhere. I like having you around. This might have been a habit I have acquired recently or a monkey on my back, I am not really sure. A great weight has been lifted off my shoulder or maybe a cross that I have to bare, either way right now, everything will be alright.

They say pretty hurts. Like sand through the hour glass I dare not look it up on the wikipedia. I would rather not know and stay in the plane, watch the clouds than risk falling through them. I have been extending my days into nights hoping that the time passes faster than it normally should but time is constant and I be ducking. Time runs until it stops. It never slows or speeds up. Sometimes you just forget where you are, where you have been or what you are going. It all comes back to you eventually.

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