As I once said, "I am a snail on a highway," I now believe I am the snail's much slower cousin with a bad case of The Humdrums. The Humdrums is a chronic condition that makes a snail believe it is much slower than it actually is, hence the place on the hypothetical highway, so to speak.
I have had a productive week and I got to see the Foo Fighters in concert, which was a colorful highlight of the week. A streak across a foggy window. I do have The Humdrums, remember? :-)
All right, all right. This needs further explanation. Lately I've been looking at a pond as if it's a ocean and flapping my fins miserably when I reach the shore no matter in which direction I swim. I have a humongous, fantastic, wildly imaginative dream that sometimes takes up as much of my brain as I can use. I squeeze my eyes really tight and click my bare feet together three times and whisper, "Please someday come true."
How does it come true, though? How do I graduate from a pond to an ocean? When do my fins morph into wings so I can set sail across the world and find my ocean?
I swim in my despair. In my dreams I fly.
One day at a time, hour by hour I work and I wait. And I pray.
What a funny looking snail I must be. Snaily discharge to travel to fins to wings. Maybe all at once.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Sunday, May 1, 2011
something different
Longing for anything other than what I hear. I'm not upset. I'm not rejoicing. I'm troubled. I pray that peace is on your mind. And his mind. And her mind. I hope that we can learn that one death does not history change or make. Life continues as before until the leaves fall and the new trees grow where their parents fell.
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