Still can't get used to this.
I don't quite understand it. Although this night I think I know the source.
Somebody sang a song once. It talks about life standing still. And being afraid it always will. And then looking in the center. Suddenly, everything is clear.
I have been there.
The rub lies in the waiting, walking through the valley, hiking up the mountain. Sometimes you wonder if the journey is worth it. And you wait for the moments that tell you it is.
I see myself walking along the shoreline, listening to the relaxation of the surf, enjoying the beauty of the morning. I want to be there. I am a million miles away.
It is getting hard to keep up. The idealism of youth is fading. Rose-colored glasses giving way to muted hues of cynicism. The bland homogenization distorting whatever brilliance existed.
Just makes me wonder how in the hell I lost my way. For so long the whole darn thing made perfect sense.